


Basking in the Glow of Glory

by TectonicDisaster02



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Bisexuality, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Conflict Resolution, Drama, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, First Shinobi War, Founding of Konoha, Friends to Enemies, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Naruto Canon Era, Second Shinobi War, Slow Romance, Survivor Guilt, Teen Romance, Third Shinobi War, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 254,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TectonicDisaster02/pseuds/TectonicDisaster02
Summary: I think it's a crime we didn't get some good Sannin filler - so I tried writing it myself. This fic follows the Legendary Sannin (Orochimaru, Tsunade and Jiraiya) from their early childhood, through the Second Shinobi War, Orochimaru's departure, and up until the Search for Tsunade Arc. It captures (hopefully in heartbreaking detail, gotta love some angst) the breakdown of their Team, and their disbandment. Expect tears, humour, the good ol' found family trope, crushes, drama, angst, and a little bit of fluff tagged on the end for good measure. Reviews welcomed and appreciated.
Relationships: Hatake Sakumo/Original Female Character(s), Jiraiya/Orochimaru (One-sided), Jiraiya/Tsunade (Naruto), Katou Dan/Tsunade, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito
Comments: 189
Kudos: 123





	1. A New Age

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Legendary Sannin. I think they are criminally underrated (particularly Tsunade, girl went through a lot of strife, you know) and I would have loved to see more of their relationship. This first chapter is basically an intro, post-the death of Orochimaru's parents :( I have written out a very long timeline of events, so ages are accurate (as far as the data book is concerned), but I've taken *some* creative liberties concerning Jiraiya and Tsunade's parents. Enjoy! We stan the Sannin!  
> P.S. Am sorry idk how to indent paragraphs. It bugs me. Pls help xox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru mourns the loss of his parents, Jiraiya judges the Senjus, and Tsunade has a new baby brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we goooooo!

**PART ONE: THE GENIN SAGA**

Chapter One - A New Age

Date: 30 A.K. (After Konoha)

It was quiet at night, on the outskirts of the village. Orochimaru decided this was what he liked most about Konoha - the rare moments of peace. Cicadas chirruped in the dying heat, and the summer sun was drenching the gravestone in front of him in a burning orange. In a morbid sort of way, it was beautiful. 

In the back of his mind, Orochimaru wondered what it must have looked like; a boy no older than 4, on his own at night, staring at a headstone. But the graveyard was even quieter than normal. There was an awful lot of hustle and bustle going on around the Hokage Mansion, and most of the villagers were loitering in the main square, eager for news. Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage, was expecting his second grandchild. Of course, it was an event for the whole of Konoha to get involved in - after all, it had been 4 years since the last birth, and privately, people were hoping for a boy. Orochimaru couldn’t think why. Princess Tsunade, the spoilt brat that she was, seemed plenty powerful without the addition of male genes. But, given Konoha’s ways, a male heir to the Hokage name apparently seemed more appropriate. 

In any case, as Komako Senju screamed the Mansion down, Orochimaru simply looked at the gravestone. It had only been 2 months since his parents had died, but it felt like an eternity. He came every evening to replace the flowers, even if they were still fresh, and spent hours there, recounting his day. He would be enrolling in the Academy by the turn of the year. He wasn’t sure what calibre of shinobi he would make, but he was certain of one thing - he would be strong enough to protect the ones he loved. 

All at once, the orange light cast over the gravestone looked like fire. Fire that killed them. He hadn’t been there - they had both been away, serving under the Hokage - but the bodies were burnt enough for him to piece together every grim detail. He thought it must have hurt. He thought about how scared they must have been, headbands gleaming against the light, smoke in their lungs. He hoped the smoke killed them before the flames. So much for peace. Konoha had been at relative peace for 26 years, but it didn’t mean complete serenity. People were still dying. Villages, on the cusp of development, were still uneasy. It was only natural. That was what Lord Hokage said, when Orochimaru was given the news. 

‘No matter what, Konoha will look after you,’ Hashirama had said, laying a hand on Orochimaru’s quivering shoulder. ‘We can’t return your parents, but we can protect you like our own. That’s a Hokage promise!’ 

Rather cheesily, he had pointed at his headband and gave him a smile. Orochimaru figured that it was his way of reassuring the small boy that he wouldn’t be left alone. But Orochimaru felt more alone than he thought possible. And in reality, he barely saw the Hokage or his wife after the so-called promise. They sent officials to check in on him, now and again, and gave him an allowance, but Orochimaru was very much left to fend for himself. Often, he wondered what it must have been like for Princess Tsunade, living cosily with her family up in the Mansion. How secure and happy she must have been. 

Orochimaru was fairly on the mark regarding Tsunade - it _was_ nice being treated as Konoha royalty, and getting to live in a suite in the Mansion. But she wasn’t necessarily happy. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Orochimaru saw a tall man and a small boy, who shared the same white, spiked hair, come into view. Orochimaru didn’t know them, but they were usually visiting around the same time he was, though certainly not as often. The boy looked about his age, but never engaged in conversation. The grave they visited was quite close to Orochimaru’s parents, making it fairly recent. He kept his head stooped, avoiding their gaze, as they shuffled past him. He could feel the boy’s eyes burning the back of his head. Not surprising. A lot of the villagers stared at him - after all, the massacre his parents were caught up in was brutal, and had taken a lot of shinobi lives. No one survived, that day. 

‘They had a son,’ the man said to the boy, as they stopped at the grave. Orochimaru’s ears pricked up. Konoha would be happy. 

‘Great,’ the boy mumbled. ‘Another Senju brat we need to appease.’ 

‘Quiet, Jiraiya,’ the man snapped. ‘You mustn’t talk like that. Lord First and his family are the best protection Konoha has, and you must not get on their bad side, you hear?’ 

Orochimaru smirked at this. Hashirama, for all his power, was a goofball. It was Tobirama one had to be wary of. The man was a genius, basking in the shadow of his brother’s prowess, and honestly, Orochimaru was a little afraid of him. He reckoned most of the villagers were. Compared to Hashirama’s kind-hearted spirit, and the endearing way he doted on Tsunade, it wasn’t surprising that Tobirama cast a particularly icy glare. 

‘Tsk,’ Jiraiya said, kicking the dirt under his foot.

Orochimaru partly agreed with him. It was a little ridiculous, the way a four year old girl marched around like she owned the place (well, her family technically did, but still). He reckoned that would change come Academy enrollment. Then again, would Konoha royalty really have to slum it up with the commoners? He wouldn’t be surprised if she secured some sort of private tutoring, probably from the Hokage himself. In any case, Orochimaru was nervous about the whole ordeal, Konoha Royalty present or not. He wasn’t good around people, had no friends his age, and worst of all, his parents wouldn’t be there to wave him off. He sighed to himself, as Jiraiya and the man - presumably his father - paid their respects, and left Orochimaru in their wake. 

*

‘Tsuna,’ Komako tutted, ‘I told you already. You’re too small to hold Nawaki safely!’ 

‘How is that fair? I’m big enough to go to the Academy in a few months!’ 

Komako tried not to roll her eyes. Unfortunately, her daughter was exceptionally good at coming up with sound arguments on the spot. She took after her grand-uncle in that respect. 

‘Because I said so. Now stop fawning over him, he needs his sleep.’ 

Tsunade pulled a face, but obeyed. She knew better than to get on the wrong side of her mother. As the daughter of Hashirama, she had a lot of power hidden in her cells, but was gentle by nature. 

‘Does he look like me when I was born? Tsunade asked, jumping up and perching on the end of her mother’s bed. 

Komako smiled. ‘Well, in a way. You have similar eyes. But most babies do when they’re born, you see. We’ll know more when he gets bigger.’ 

‘How long till I can start teaching him taijutsu? Grandpa taught me the most kick-ass move the other day!’ Tsunade beamed. 

‘Tsuna, don’t use language like that. It’s not becoming of a lady,’ Komako frowned. ‘And at least wait until the poor child can walk. You may have been weaving hand signs in the cot, but that’s in part because your Grandpa spent every waking moment playing with your little chubby fingers.’ 

Tsunade giggled at that. Her earliest memory was that of Hashirama dangling a toy kunai above her head. He had always been very involved - much more than her own father, come to think of it - and Tsunade adored him. He had a knack at making people want to help him, and to see him succeed and flourish. It was partly why the whole village was so rampant with concern and interest over Nawaki’s birth. Tsunade was probably the most anxious, though. It wasn’t pleasant, hearing her mother scream the place down while her grandma, Mito Uzumaki, tended to her. It was worth it in the end. Seeing Nawaki for the first time was the best moment of her little life, at that point, even though he looked ‘squishy and gross’. 

There was a knock at the door. Komako granted entry, and Taichi, Hashirama’s son-in-law and Tsunade’s father, entered the room. He was a very tall man, blonde like his daughter. He had once been handsome, but a battle had severely scared his face and rendered him blind in one eye. Mito did everything she could to lessen the disfigurement, but in the end, Komako implored her to abandon her efforts. After all, she didn’t care what her husband looked like. She worshipped the ground he walked on, handsome or not. That was another endearing thing about Hashirama and his family - they loved powerfully. 

‘How’s my boy?’ he said, sweeping his large frame into the room and peering over the side of the cot. 

‘Very well. Father came in to see him earlier, but Uncle is away on a village errand, at the moment. I’m sure Father will send word to him regardless,’ Komako said. 

‘Good. He’ll want to rush back, I’m sure. A son! At last,’ Taichi smiled, though it was more of a grimace. Tsunade used to liken his smile to an Inuzuka dog bearing its teeth, until her mother had stern words. 

‘Everyone is very pleased, I must say,’ Komako said warmly, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. 

‘What do you think of him, eh, Tsunade?’ Taichi said, looking down on his daughter from his great height. ‘How’s it feel to be a big sister?’ 

‘Tiring. He’s been crying most the night,’ Tsunade declared. 

Komako and Taichi chuckled. 

‘Well, you’ll have to get used to it,’ Taichi said, ruffling her hair with a huge hand. ‘After all, you’ll be training how to use the Wood Style together. Assuming it’s skipped a generation.’ 

Komako felt a little stung. It was no secret that she couldn’t use Wood Style, despite being Hashirama’s direct descendant, and for a while, she felt incredibly insecure about it. She was their only child - since Mito was the Kyuubi Jinchuriki, it was very risky for her to give birth. The seal had weakened so much during her labour with Komako that the Kyuubi nearly broke free. Were it not for Mito’s instinctive Uzumaki tenacity and special chakra, Konoha may have been overcome. In the end, it was an almost silent decision for Hashirama and Mito to not have any more children. And there was no change Tobirama would ever settle down. Komako only prayed that at least one of her children was capable of the powerful ninjutsu, so the sacred art could be passed down. 

‘I dunno. I quite like the medical ninjutsu that Grandma does,’ Tsunade said thoughtfully. 

A shadow cast over Taichi’s face. ‘You’ll be focusing on Wood Style, Tsuna. It’s your birthright. Don’t lose focus just because you’re enamoured by some fancy chakra control.’

‘It is much more than that, Taichi, I can assure you,’ Mito’s voice came through the doorway. Mito Uzumaki was perhaps the only person, aside from Tobirama, who could instill real fear into Taichi. Her fiery red hair and equally fiery personality were a force to be reckoned with. It was a miracle that Hashirama had survived so long, given her harshness. 

‘Mother,’ Komako said, ‘has word been sent to Uncle Tobirama?’ 

‘Yes, dear, it has,’ Mito smiled, passing over Tsunade with a gentle tap on the head. ‘He shouldn’t be long. Besides, young Hiruzen is with him - it shouldn’t be too much of a strife.’ 

‘Ah, now there’s a fine shinobi, if there ever was one,’ Taichi nodded. ‘You should aim to follow in his footsteps, Tsuna. Mark my words; he’ll go far.’ 

Hiruzen Sarutobi was indeed a fine shinobi. At 22, he was already a trusted ally and advisor of both Hashirama and Tobirama, along with his team-mates, Homura and Koharu. Tsunade had met him a few times. He, along with Homura, Koharu, and a young man called Danzo Shimura, were often hanging about the Mansion with Lord First. Tsunade liked him, but wasn’t too keen on the other three. They were condescending, entitled, and treated her like a child. Well, she _was_ a child, but that’s not the point. She got a bad vibe off them, especially that slimy Danzo. 

‘Tsunade, what’s with that sour face, hm?’ Mito chuckled. 

‘You’ll never marry if you wear such an ugly expression, Tsunade,’ Taichi muttered. 

‘Maybe I don’t want to marry? Boys are icky!’ Tsunade said, sticking out her tongue. 

‘Tsunade! I already told you, behaviour like that is unbecoming of a lady!’ Komako gasped. 

Mito just laughed, and playfully poked Tsunade in the side. ‘Oh, she’s going to be just fine. And you’ll probably change your mind about boys, Tsuna. You’re to start at the Academy soon, aren’t you? You’ll meet plenty of eligible young men, there.’ 

‘Going to the Academy isn’t about finding a husband, though, it’s about becoming a ninja!’ Tsunade pouted. 

‘That’s your brother’s role,’ Taichi said sternly. 

‘He’s too small to do anything at the moment,’ Tsunade said. ‘I’ll make the Senju proud, you wait and see!’

Komako smiled to herself. _That’s my girl._


	2. The Death of a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, is gravely ill. Not knowing how to deal with her grief, Tsunade finds comforting words in the most unlikely of sources - Jiraiya's father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what Kishimoto intended for Hashirama's death. I mean, he's so OP. But it's obviously canonical that he does die, somehow, and I just can't see it happening in battle since he is so exceptionally powerful. I remember Shizune mentioning the negative impact of Tsunade's Strength of a Hundred Technique (in that rapidly regenerating cells can lessen lifespan) and since Hashirama was the King of healing without handsigns, I figured he must have done something similar.  
> Again, taken some creative liberties with Jiraiya's parentage, since we know nothing about any of the Sannin's parents.

Chapter Two: The Death of a Hero 

Date: 30 A.K. (After Konoha) 

Jiraiya was jarred from his sleep rather suddenly. There were lots of voices milling about outside under his window, and the sounds of numerous footsteps. It was almost as bad as a few months ago, when the First Hokage’s daughter pushed out another Senju brat he’d have to ‘respect’.

‘What now?’ he grumbled to himself, scratching his head. It was well past midday, but Jiraiya much preferred to spend as much time as possible in the comfortable confines of his bed. Opening his window, he craned his neck out to have a good look around the busy street. As much as Jiraiya liked living in the centre of Konoha - everything was on his doorstep, including the best restaurants and eateries - it came with its downsides. Like now, for instance. There were people _everywhere_ , and for whatever reason, some were holding hankies to their faces and crying into them.

‘Hey!’ he shouted, catching the attention of a member of the Uchiha Police Force. ‘What’s all this commotion? You woke me up!’ 

The dark-haired man looked pointedly irritated at Jiraiya’s little outburst, but answered him anyway. 

‘Lord Hokage is gravely ill,’ he reported. His words were enough to stimulate more weeping from a few bystanders, and Jiraiya pulled a face. The First Hokage, sick? It didn’t seem possible. The man was a medical genius. 

‘There’s no way he’s gonna go out like that,’ Jiraiya muttered, twisting his neck awkwardly to see the Hokage Monument. Hashirama’s face gazed down over the village supremely, and as much as Jiraiya thought it was pretentious, he respected him. In his childlike way, Jiraiya was convinced the First Hokage would live forever. After all, he was exceptionally powerful. There’s no chance in hell he’d die in his bed, surely? He was only 55. But, really, for the lifespan of a Shinobi, that was very impressive. 

‘What’s wrong with the old geezer then, eh?’ Jiraiya called. 

‘Oi! Show some respect, you little runt!’ 

Jiraiya stared down incredulously at the blonde girl who just so happened to be pushing through the crowds, frantically, almost, on her way to the Mansion. Jiraiya pulled a face. It was Princess Tsunade. 

‘You can’t talk to me like that!’ he shot back. That was a downright lie. Tsunade had every right to call him out for taking ill of her grandfather, but there was no way Jiraiya was going to back down. Call it tenacity. 

Tsunade could have taken the moral high ground, but she had only just turned 5, and therefore hadn’t yet learnt the delicacy of restraint. 

‘I can, and if you keep talking back to me, I’ll climb up there and clobber you!’ she snarled. 

Jiraiya at least had the decency to look a little afraid at her assertion, but it was short lived. ‘Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try, you snot nosed princess!’ 

If Komako hadn’t grabbed the back of Tsunade’s shirt and hauled her back, she probably _would_ have scrambled up the roof and smacked him after all. As it stood, Komako reprimanded Tsunade sternly, again playing the ‘it’s not becoming of a lady’ card, and dragged her by the hand towards the Mansion. Tsunade took the time to stick her tongue out at Jiraiya, who did the same back, before snapping his window shut with a bang. 

‘Spoiled brat,’ he mumbled. 

‘What was all that noise?’ 

Jiraiya’s father, Benjiro, pushed himself into his son’s room without permission, something Jiraiya found to be exceptionally irritating. 

‘Will you knock for once? Sheesh!’ Jiraiya snapped. 

Benjiro pursed his lips together. ‘Were you shouting at the neighbours again, Jiraiya?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘Well who were you shouting at, then?’ 

Jiraiya shrugged. ‘Just some kid. Annoying kid.’ 

‘Jiraiya,’ Benjiro sighed, sitting down at the end of his bed. ‘We’ve spoken about this. If you’re going to become a respectable member of the Shinobi community, you have _got_ to stop picking unnecessary fights. Especially out the window.’ 

‘But she deserved it!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘She called me a little runt!’ 

‘I mean, she’s not far off the mark,’ Benjiro teased lightheartedly. ‘You are pretty small, son.’ 

‘Big enough to start at the Academy next week, though,’ Jiraiya muttered. 

‘Gosh, that’s come around quickly!’ Benjiro said, noting the calendar hanging above Jiraiya’s bed. The date was marked with a crudely drawn kunai and several exclamation points. Benjiro smiled. ‘You excited for it?’

Jiraiya tried to act indifferent as he shrugged again, but Benjiro could see right through him. His eyes, which were gleaming with eagerness, betrayed him. 

‘You know,’ Benjiro said, ‘I met your mother on enrollment day. I called her ugly by accident and she knocked me out. Can’t recall most of that day, looking back.’

‘Sounds like you deserved it, old man,’ Jiraiya smirked. 

‘And you might follow suit, given your eagerness to wind up the local kids,’ Benjiro said. ‘Just try to not get into fights on your first day, alright? You need to make a good first impression.’

‘I always make a good first impression!’

‘Your mother might disagree. She was in labour for 2 days with you, and then you wouldn’t stop crying long enough for her to get some shut-eye,’ Benjiro chuckled. ‘Quite the first impression there, my boy.’

Jiraiya smiled to himself. He liked it when his father spoke about his mother, especially when he looked happy doing it. She had died when Jiraiya was very small, while out on duty. If he really tried, he could just about make out her voice. Her features in his memory were blurred and fragile, hard to recall, and constantly morphing. But her voice was soft and melodious, soothing and dulcet. He enjoyed the moments when he could really hear her, in his mind at least, saying his name. Broken as his memories of her were, he kept a photograph of her on his bedside table. More often than he’d like to admit, he would look at her at night, and pretend she was talking to him. He called it grief rather than childishness. 

‘Anyway,’ Benjiro said, standing up and stretching, ‘I’d best go and suss out the situation with Lord First. And you’d best get dressed, Jiraiya. It’s nearly lunchtime.’ 

*

‘It’s not looking good,’ Jun, a Special Jonin, said, when Benjiro asked after Hashirama. Benjiro was a respected member of Konoha’s Shinbo force, though he had remained a Chuunin since he passed the exam. Usually, he monitored Konoha’s internal security, working closely with the Uchihas, but he was often posted to guard the Mansion and the Senju Family who occupied it. 

‘What ails him?’ Benjiro asked. 

‘We’re not too sure, to be honest with you,’ Jun admitted. ‘I mean, we all know he was weakened after his battle with Madara Uchiha, but Lady Uzumaki reckons it might be due to his frequent use of his Regeneration Technique. The rapid succession of regenerating his cells for healing purposes in the heat of battle, over and over again, may have taken their toll. Of course, Lady Uzumaki can’t be certain. But it’s the only theory we’ve got for his sudden and crippling fatigue.’ 

‘Gods. Who would have thought it?’ Benjiro murmured. ‘But he’ll be okay, right?’

Jun avoided his eyes. ‘I...I don’t know. We haven’t told the villagers of the severity of the situation so as not to cause panic, but between you and me…’

Jun leaned closer to Benjiro, whispering in his ear. ‘Lord Hokage is encouraging Tobirama’s immediate succession.’ 

Benjiro went cold. Of course, it was no secret that Tobirama would become the Second Hokage, but for Hashirama to push for his inauguration, it meant trouble. 

‘Lady Komako and Princess Tsunade are in with him now,’ Jun said. ‘Lady Uzumaki is informing us of his condition as and when she can, but it must be terribly grievous for her.’

‘Yes. I know the feeling,’ Benjiro said. Losing a partner was unspeakably painful. 

As if on cue, Mito opened the door to the Hokage’s suite, her expression grave. 

‘Lady Uzumaki,’ Benjiro said, bowing, ‘how is Lord Hokage?’ 

Mito was looking pale and drained, her normally meticulously done-up hair falling in strands over the diamond on her forehead. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Tsunade shoved past her, bolting from the room. 

‘Tsunade!’ Komako’s strangled cry came from inside. Mito held out a hand to try and grab her by the scruff of her shirt, but Tsunade was too quick.

‘I’ll go,’ Benjiro said, noting the pained expression on Mito’s face. She was close to exhaustion, and the last thing she needed was to chase Tsunade around Konoha.

‘Thank you,’ she sighed. ‘This whole ordeal has been very challenging on her, the poor child.’ She said that as if it wasn’t challenging on her, too. But Mito was close to breaking point, and despite her best efforts, Benjiro and Jun could see her mask slipping. 

‘Of course. I’ll bring her back,’ Benjiro nodded. 

It didn’t take him long to find Tsunade. For all his abilities, Benjiro was particularly good at tracking, and Tsunade had made no attempts to mask her route. He spotted her on the outskirts of one of the forests, one that was surveyed by Hashirama’s stone eyes, and she was looking at the sculpted face, her eyes swollen and unblinking. Cautiously, so as not to startle her, Benjiro cleared his throat. Tsunade looked ready to bolt, but he held up a hand. 

‘Just hold on a moment, Princess Tsunade,’ he said, his voice soft and calm. ‘I merely want to join you. It’s a beautiful day, after all.’ 

‘No it’s not. It’s the worst day ever,’ Tsunade mumbled, hugging her knees to her chest. 

Benjiro sat down next to her, leaning against the tree. He followed her eyeline and settled on the great stone face overhead. To lose a Hokage is a terrible thing, but Benjiro had to remember that, whatever his personal feelings, the little girl next to him was losing her grandfather. That was more important. 

Sighing, he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a hankie. Tentatively, as if dealing with a wild and unruly animal, he held it out to her. 

‘Here,’ he said softly, ‘your face is a little dirty, Princess Tsunade.’

Tsunade gave a huge sniff, and rubbed her eyes with the hankie. 

‘You know,’ Benjiro said, gazing at the Stone Monument, ‘I remember when they carved that face into the mountainside. You probably know already that this village is relatively young, as far as settlements go, but I was about your age when they started work on it. My wife - well, she wasn’t my wife back then - said it was a little over the top. But you know what? I feel really, really safe when I look at it. It’s like...like he’s always watching over us. And that’s not going to change, Princess Tsunade. Whatever happens, your grandfather will always be watching over this village, and by extension, watching over you.’

‘A stone face isn’t the real thing,’ Tsunade mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut. Benjiro felt a pang in his heart. Jiraiya had pulled the same expression on more than one occasion, when he was desperately trying not to cry. 

‘You’re right,’ Benjiro nodded. ‘But you know what is real, Princess? His spirit. His will. And, his legacy. Alive or dead, stone face or not, your grandfather will always be part of this village, and our shared history. More importantly, he lives _in_ you. You and your mother, and your new baby brother. Don’t you think that’s an incredible thing?’ 

‘But he’s part of the village now,’ Tsunade sniffed. ‘Why does that have to change?’ 

‘Well, I suppose it’s because change defines us,’ Benjiro said slowly.

‘What do you mean?’

Benjiro was quiet for a moment. It was integral he found the right words. Tsunade was fragile, young and impressionable - and, most importantly, she was upset. Saying the wrong thing would surely cause her to scarper. 

‘Think of it like this,’ he said. ‘You’re about the right age to start at the Academy, right?’

‘Right.’ 

Benjiro made a private note to tell Jiraiya to watch his tongue around her, given that she would be his classmate. ‘Well, I bet I’m right in thinking that it’s a little bit scary, huh? I remember when I was your age, I was absolutely terrified about enrollment. I was happy as I was, see. I liked my little life, my days spent idly, the friends I had made. I didn’t want to move forward. I didn’t want things to change. But they did - and I’m glad they did. After all, I met the love of my life. I had my son. I did different things. Change helps us grow, Princess Tsunade. It can be a good thing.’ 

Tsunade frowned. ‘You think it’s a good thing that my grandpa is going to die?’ 

‘No, of course not!’ Benjiro said, sweating. ‘I merely meant that, given the inevitably of change, we must learn to adapt to it. More importantly, we have to learn to make the best of it. The world will keep trudging forward with every turn of the day, whether we like it or not. It’s not in our hands. But what is in our hands is how we react - so, today, you could run away and sulk under a tree, or you could go back, hold your grandpa’s hand, and show him that you love him. It’s your choice, Princess. Change defines us just as much as happiness or sadness.’ 

With each word, Tsunade was slowly lifting her head up from her knees. ‘So, even if change makes me upset, it doesn’t mean it’s bad?’

‘Exactly. The universe makes decisions far beyond our control, and sometimes, the decisions make us very upset. But the beauty of the universe is its cosmic balance - as sad as today is, it doesn’t mean tomorrow will be as bleak. Our reactions to those things out of our control define us more than the changes they create.’ 

Tsunade wiped her eyes. ‘I think I understand. But why does it hurt so much?’

Benjiro lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘Because there is love. Where there is pain, you can bet there is love at its source.’ 

‘It seems unfair.’

‘Oh, it is. But isn’t the hurt worth the love?’ 

All at once, Tsunade was smiling. ‘Yes. It is. It really, really is.’


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiruzen Sarutobi meets the future Sannin. Orochimaru is hungry. Jiraiya and Tsunade lock horns. What could possibly go wrong?  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been enjoying this a lot so far (if anything because babie Orochimaru needs a hug, and Mito nearly gives it to him), plus I think it's been well received, from the few comments! Thank you so much! Encouragement really keeps me going - I'll be replying when it isn't nearly 3am - and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

Chapter Three: Introductions 

Date: 31 A.K. (After Konoha) 

Several weeks had passed since Hashirama fell ill - too ill, even, to carry on with his Hokage duties - and much had changed for the village. Firstly, Konoha had seen in the New Year by welcoming a new Hokage, Tobirama. Secondly, tensions were rising between the newly established villages. People feared war, but, at least for a short while, a tentative peace was being fostered amongst the Great Nations. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, a new generation had enrolled at Konoha’s Academy. 

‘Now you be well behaved, Tsuna,’ Hashirama managed, his voice faint. He was looking pale, and much older than 55, the impact of the jutsu having quite literally sucked the life out of him. Tsunade, who was perched on the edge of his bed, was having her hair gently combed by Mito. 

‘I’m always well behaved!’ she said. 

Hashirama laughed, in his usual rambunctious way, but it was short-lived. He broke off in a long and painful sounding coughing fit, and Tsunade winced at the sound. Mito did, too, but dutifully styled Tsunade’s hair into two little pigtails and acted as though she couldn’t hear it. 

‘There,’ she said softly, patting her on the head, ‘you look very grown-up, Tsuna.’ 

‘And almost as beautiful as your Grandmother!’ Hashirama smiled weakly. 

‘Who’s taking me, then?’ Tsunade asked. ‘It’s obvious Grandfather can’t, and Uncle seems too busy these days.’

‘Well, he’s only just had his inauguration. These days are wrought with timey and complicated adjustments, Tsuna,’ Mito said. ‘Isn’t your father around?’ 

Tsunade shook her head, and Mito frowned. It wasn’t that she disliked Taichi, as such, but she certainly felt like he could do with investing a little more time into his young daughter. He was always caught up with this, that, and the other, and, if Mito was being harsh, seemed only interested in his children when it suited him. As well as that, what with Nawaki being just a few months old, Komako hadn’t had much time for Tsunade, either. Sighing, Mito glanced over Hashirama, who was glossed in a sheen of sweat. He smiled knowingly. 

‘Go with her, my love,’ he said, holding her hand, ‘I’ll be fine for an hour or so.’

*

‘This is lame,’ Jiraiya decided, pulling a face in front of the mirror. Benjiro refrained from scolding him, putting Jiraiya’s attitude down to first day nerves. 

‘Nonsense, son,’ he said, fussing with the front of Jiraiya’s yukata and making sure the sash was straight. ‘You need to look your best for your first day. Make a good impression, remember?’ 

Jiraiya pouted, and tried to flatten his hair. It didn’t work. 

‘Do you have to come with me?’ he said. ‘I’m 5, you know. Plenty old enough to go places on my own.’

‘It’s traditional for a parent or guardian to attend the entrance ceremony with their children,’ Benjiro replied. And, he thought privately, it gives me an opportunity to steer you away from trouble.

‘How can it be traditional? The Academy has only been open for like two decades,’ Jiariya said. 

‘And that is an awful lot of generations for the tradition to be cemented, Jiraiya,’ Benjiro said, his voice stern. In truth, he wanted to go with him. It had been a dream of his late wife’s, to see Jiraiya off to the Academy, bento box in hand, aspirations brimming in the palm of his hand. It was doubly important that he make sure Jiraiya was properly respectful, too. He hadn’t forgotten his discussion with Tsunade, and knew she would be starting in his class, too. 

‘Hm,’ Jiraiya shrugged. Then, rather awkwardly, he fidgeted on the spot, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. 

‘What is it?’ Benjiro asked.

‘It’s just...do you think I’m gonna make a good ninja?’ 

Benjiro was slightly taken-aback. It wasn’t often that Jiraiya willingly expressed insecurity, especially since he talked so much about ‘becoming the best shinobi ever’. Smiling slightly, Benjiro laid a steady hand on Jiraiya’s shoulder, eyeing him in the mirror. 

‘If you work hard, Jiraiya, I am certain you will be the finest ninja Konoha as ever seen.’ 

*

‘You’re here a little early, kid,’ Hiruzen Sarutobi said. He was staring down at a small boy, with long, black hair and almost unhealthily pale skin. He looked like a plant that had spent most of its little life in the dark, straining for any threads of sunlight that broke through from above. He was shorter than average, and his eyes, which were burning golden, were bordered with lilac markings Hiruzen assumed were bags. 

‘I...I’m sorry.’

Hiruzen sighed. ‘Hey, no matter. Shows you’re eager, which is always a good thing! My name is Hiruzen Sarutobi. I’m a Jonin here in Konoha - and I’m holding the fort until Lord Second gets here to properly oversee the event. You enrolling today? What’s your name?’

It was quite a lot of information for Orochimaru to absorb. He blinked several times, as if shocked to be directly addressed from a senior member of Konoha’s Shinobi force, before taking a deep breath. 

‘Yes. I’m Orochimaru.’

‘Orochimaru, eh? Nice to meet you,’ Hiruzen nodded, before gesturing to a woman over his shoulder. ‘Hey, Koharu! We got one!’ 

Koharu sauntered over, looking rather sour, and clutching a clipboard to her chest. 

‘The ceremony doesn’t start for another 40 minutes,’ she tutted. 

‘Ah, that doesn’t matter!’ Hiruzen said breezily, sensing Orochimaru’s unease. ‘This young lady here is called -’

‘ - um, I’m a boy,’ Orochimaru said timidly. He wasn’t surprised. He had a slight and feminine build, and the more small-minded and presumptuous of people often mistook him for a girl. That’s not to say Hiruzen was small-minded, but he was certainly mortified. 

‘Good grief! My - my sincerest apologies!’ he said, bowing. 

‘Hiruzen, don’t bow to a child,’ Koharu scolded. 

‘In - in any case,’ Hiruzen said bashfully, scratching the back of his head, ‘this young man is called Orochimaru. Is he on the list?’ 

Koharu peered down at Orochimaru, her expression grim. ‘Surname?’

Orochimaru didn’t answer. 

‘I said, surname!’ Koharu repeated. ‘It doesn’t do well to ignore your seniors, young Orochimaru!’

‘Easy, Koharu,’ Hiruzen said, laying a hand on Orochimaru’s quivering shoulder. ‘But it would be best if we knew, Orochimaru. It’s in alphabetical order, see. Helps us keep order.’

‘I...I don’t know,’ Orochimaru whispered. 

Hiruzen and Koharu exchanged a look. 

‘What do you mean, son?’ Hiruzen asked. 

Orochimaru scrunched up his face, and hated himself for doing it. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t -’

‘It’s okay, Hiruzen,’ a deep voice boomed from behind them. Hiruzen turned and saw Tobirama, adorned in his signature process blue armour (which he wore most days, despite the fact that it was uncomfortable and hadn’t seen combat for a good while) and a serious expression. He passed over to them, his headband glinting in the sun. He whispered something in Hiruzen’s ear, before bearing down on Orochimaru. 

‘You have only one name,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘and that is Orochimaru. You need no other.’ 

With that, he turned on his heels and walked back to where Homura was organising the seating. Hiruzen stared after his master, and sighed. He had simply whispered ‘The Fires of Takigakure’ in his ear. Hiruzen knew what that meant. It was a massacre that occurred a few months ago, between some of Konoha’s finest, and a renegade faction who had broken away from Takigakure after the failed assassination attempt on Hashirama by a ninja named Kakuzu. Tensions were high between the two villages, and since Takigakure was shrouded in mystery, the true might of their prowess was relatively unknown. Hence, even with several Jonin, the Konoha ninja were wiped out. Hashirama, under Tobirama’s harsh advice, had erased any evidence of the village clash to save face. As a result, the shinobi who had died serving were largely ignored, dismissed as having died on other missions, and their names erased. Orochimaru, who had never learnt his own surname, remained simply ‘Orochimaru’, his family name lost to the Fires of Takigakure. It was a cover-up that would stay buried. Hiruzen didn’t agree with it, but Tobirama was his Hokage and his sensei. There was little he could do to protest it. 

‘Well, Orochimaru,’ he said, ‘you’re lucky enough to have such a nice name, that you only need one! We’ll tick you off the list.’ 

Koharu, who was still recovering from the shock of the reminder of the Fires, quickly nodded, and put a dash by Orochimaru’s name. ‘Did you bring a guest, young man?’

Orochimaru shook his head again. 

‘No matter,’ Hiruzen said, ‘you can sit with me, if you like.’

‘Sarutobi!!’ 

Hiruzen was hit in the gut by a blur of blonde, and before he knew what had happened, Tsunade was dancing around his legs like an excitable puppy. Koharu tutted loudly, and Mito merely looked apologetic. 

‘Ah, Princess Tsunade!’ Hiruzen beamed, scooping her up. ‘You’re here early, too? Don’t tell me today’s the day?’ 

‘Today’s the day!’ Tsunade exclaimed. 

Hiruzen laughed, and dropped her back down to earth. ‘Well, that sure has come along quick. I remember when you were just a little squirt getting under my feet when I was training with Tobirama-sensei. Times sure change!’

‘Not that much,’ Koharu muttered, narrowing her eyes as Tsunade eagerly bounded about Hiruzen’s legs. 

‘Tsunade, will you calm down? Where’s all this energy come from?’ Mito sighed. 

‘I dunno! It’s just seeing the chairs and Sarutobi and the sun is out and Uncle Tobirama is over there and I swear I haven’t seen anyone is ages and -’

‘ - okay, okay,’ Mito interrupted. ‘We get the picture.’ 

‘It’s gonna be so much fun! Will you train with me when I get bigger, Sarutobi? Will you?’ Tsunade demanded. 

Hiruzen laughed heartily, and ruffled her hair. ‘We’ll see, young Princess, we’ll see.’

As Tsunade raced off, leaping over the chairs to harass her Great-Uncle - ‘don’t mess up the chairs, Princess Tsunade!’ Koharu had bellowed - Mito noticed the small boy who had been observing the scene. 

‘Hello, there,’ she smiled, kneeling down. ‘Are you going to start here, too?’ 

Orochimaru nodded shyly. He knew enough about Konoha to realise he was speaking to the First Hokage’s wife, Mito Uzumaki. Her hair was a beautiful red colour, and she was observing him almost maternally. It was an expression he didn’t recognise. 

‘Well, I’m sorry about all the ruckus,’ she said. ‘My granddaughter can be a bit hyperactive at times. But it’s nice to see her happy. Say, are your parents here? There’s a little chill in the air, and you’re not wearing a lot.’

Orochimaru merely shook his head, shrugging his yukata around his ears. Mito pressed her lips together.

‘Don’t you at least have something to eat with you? It can be a long day at the Academy, especially if you’re not used to it.’

Orochimaru shook his head.

‘Right,’ Mito said, her voice decisive. She reached into Tsunade’s bag and pulled out a bento box. She offered it to Orochimaru, who regarded her as if she’d just offered him a severed head. 

‘It’s alright,’ she said, ‘you can have it. It won’t take me a moment to go and fetch another one. Perks of living so close to the Academy, see.’ 

Orochimaru still didn’t move. He didn’t know what to make of her kind gesture, and was confused, wondering if she wanted money for it. He didn’t have much. 

‘Please, take it,’ Mito said quietly. ‘Trust me, Tsuna won’t even miss it.’ 

‘That’s Princess Tsunade?’ Orochimaru gasped, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. He blushed, and clasped his hands over his face.

Mito merely laughed, and nodded. ‘That’s her, alright. Forgive her behaviour. She isn’t usually so...boisterous.’ Her words were lessened somewhat by the fact that Tsunade was currently on Tobirama’s shoulders, aggressively trying to fashion his hair into pigtails to match her own. 

‘Thank you, Lady Uzumaki,’ Orochimaru said, taking the bento box with shaking hands. 

Mito blinked at him in surprise. ‘You didn’t know who Tsunade is, but you know me?’ 

Orochimaru nodded. ‘You have nice hair. And you come to the graveyard sometimes.’

Mito looked rather sad. Yes, she visited Konoha’s cemetery more than once, but she had never spotted the small boy before. Then again, he was so slight, and the tombstones so large. The creation of the village had led to much bloodshed, heartache, and fear. The countless headstones were merely stamps of that violence, and many were engraved with the names of people Mito held dear. Friends. Family. Even a lover, before she met Hashirama. She merely prayed that her granddaughter, who seemed so fulfilled with happy abandon, would not have to experience the pain she had. 

‘It’s you!’ came a shriek, which jogged Mito out of her melancholy recollections. 

Jiraiya, who was being held back by a mortified Benjiro, was pointing at Tsunade. 

‘You called me a runt, you little brat!’ he snarled.

‘Jiraiya! Watch your tongue!’ Benjiro barked. 

Tsunade, who had scrambled off Tobirama’s shoulders after she figured out his hair was too short for pigtails, gaped at him. 

‘You’re that kid from before! The day Grandfather fell ill! Why, you little -’ 

‘Tsuna,’ Tobirama boomed, grabbing a fistful of her shirt and hauling her back, ‘please, try not to soil the Senju name by clobbering your classmates on your first day.’

‘I’d like to see her try!’ Jiraiya bellowed. 

‘Jiraiya, will you shut up?!’ Benjiro hissed. ‘Lord Second, Lady Uzumaki, I am so sorry. My son is not usually so disrespectful, I promise you.’

‘Lemme get near her and I’ll show you just how disrespectful I can be!’

‘You wouldn’t be able to get a hit on me in a million years, you loud-mouthed freak!’

Benjiro thumped Jiraiya on the head, and Tobirama picked Tsunade up, before firmly planting her on one of the chairs Homura had painstakingly organised. 

‘Enough, Tsuna,’ Tobirama said sternly. 

‘Say one more word, Jiraiya, and I will personally make your life a living hell until you graduate,’ Benjiro hissed. 

Tsunade and Jiraiya shot daggers at each other.

‘Moron.’

‘Brat.’

‘Ugly.’ 

‘Stuck-up.’ 

‘Quiet!’ Tobirama and Benjiro snarled, nearly in perfect unison. The joint volume of their voices caused the birds to scatter from the trees, and Jiraiya and Tsunade at least had the decency to look a little afraid. 

Sighing, Benjiro rubbed the back of his neck, and bowed. 

‘Forgive my son, Lord Second,’ he murmured. ‘I can only hope this esteemed Academy can teach him some much needed manners.’ 

‘I could say the same about my Tsuna,’ Tobirama tutted. 

‘Ah, kids will be kids!’ Hiruzen piped up, grinning. He had found the whole exchange rather amusing, given that the two children seemed fired up so early in the morning. 

‘You’re not the one teaching them,’ Koharu mumbled. ‘I feel sorry in advance for poor Chiharu.’ 

‘It’ll be a welcome challenge for her, I’m sure!’ Hiruzen chuckled. 

Orochimaru, meanwhile, merely observed the scene with a vacant expression on his face. He recognised the white-haired boy from his visits to the graveyard, but he had no idea why he had a bone to pick with Tsunade. He decided it was best to stay out of it. After all, he certainly didn’t want to be dragged into their ridiculous shenanigans. If he could help it. 


	4. Grave News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get yourself a hankie, cus' this shit is sad.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On another note, I *know* it's a bit mad that the Sannin are currently 5 and yet speaking like seasoned politicians, but writing in a childlike way is a) a pain to write and b) a pain to read. It is totally canonical that these kids graduate at the age of 6, and, while this is a fanfic, I don't like to set fire to the canon and dance around the flames. So just imagine they're all super-smart whizz-kids, and I'll do the rest...  
> Thank you so much once more for the kind words I've received! I know it looks like I don't have a plot apart from 'this is what happened to the Sannin in my Sannin-starved brain', but I do have a plot brewing. It's just taking its sweet time.

Chapter Four: Grave News   
Date: 31 A.K. (After Konoha) 

‘Well, it appears we are all present and correct,’ Chiharu Nara said, her voice flat. She regarded the young students in front of her, who were (for the most part) sat bolt up-right, and seemed enraptured by her every move to the extent that she found it slightly unnerving. In particular, the boy with no surname was staring at her so intently that he hardly blinked. 

‘So, Lord Second explained the gist of the Academy’s running this morning,’ she continued, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m your sensei, obviously. You may address me as such. You’re to be here every weekday for a 9 o’clock start, and, unless some sort of catastrophe happens, I expect no excuses. The days will be broken up into theory, taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu respectively. I will observe each of you and assess your individual skills. Eventually, should you pass the exam, you’ll be split into three-man cells. It’s easy enough to understand. Of course, if some amongst you do not meet the required conditions to make a decent shinobi, an alternative route will be discussed for you.’ 

Her words hung in the air along with the amalgamation of first day nerves, and she sighed. It was no fun. She didn’t actually want the job at all, but Tobirama had asked her, or at least someone from her clan, to oversee the new ninja. They were fostering a new system, in which a shinobi’s skills should be developed along an intellectual and tactics-based format, where possible. The previous graduating generation seemed, according to Tobirama, to hold power and physical strength in much higher regard compared to anything else. It made for a lot of ‘playing the hero’ on crucial missions, where subtly was necessary, and therefore resulted in a disproportionate amount of failures. It was partly down to the sensei in charge, who was head of the Shimura clan and Danzo’s father. He harboured an obsession with power, stimulated by an anxiety to protect Konoha after all the strife it took to build, but his harsh and power-centric methods did little to foster the next generation of shinobi. The Nara clan, famed for their coolness and level-headedness in the heat of battle, were appointed to help clear up the damage at Tobirama’s behest. Chiharu rather felt she had drawn the short straw. 

‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘any questions?’ 

There was no movement. Chiharu refrained from rolling her eyes. Instead, they fell on the blonde girl who she recognised instantly as Princess Tsunade. In fact, when they weren’t staring at Chiharu, most of the students were studying Tsunade out of the corner of their eyes. It wasn’t often, Chiharu supposed, that they saw her. She kept to herself. Where most of the children in the village would play in the parks, already fostering friendships, Tsunade would be holed up in the Mansion. Chiharu briefly wondered what the small child got up to all day, but she didn’t dwell on it. It didn’t do well to speculate about the Senjus. Especially with Tobirama in charge. 

‘Okay, then,’ Chiharu shrugged. ‘How about you go around and introduce yourselves? Might kill some time.’ 

There was a general shuffle of awkwardness, before eyes fell on a member of her own clan. He was a distant cousin, Chiharu was fairly sure, and shared the same dark hair and hawk-like eyes she possessed. 

‘My name Kenzou Nara,’ he said, aloof, not missing a beat. 

The rest of the class looked at Chiharu expectantly, not knowing what to say. It would be too cheesy for everyone to go ‘hi, Kenzou!’ in unison, so she merely nodded. Name announcing was a long and tedious process, but at least everyone got a general idea of who was who. Plus, it gave Chiharu an immediate impression about potential teams. Of course, she couldn’t devise anything concrete, but it was obvious that Kenzou would surely end up in a team with Riku Yamanaka and Isao Akimichi. The Ino-Shika-Cho Trio had only been active for a generation or two, but it was already famous for its effectiveness. Though Chiharu did wonder if it would have the same ring to it, what with the kids’ names. Ken-Rik-Isa didn’t have the same impact. 

Whatsmore, Chiharu would, given the choice, assign Fumihiro Hyuga and Hiromichi Uchiha to the same squad, what with their visual prowess. Equally, splitting up twins Yua and Yui Inuzuka just seemed cruel, so they ought to be in the same squad. She’d certainly put the Aburame kid, Daichi, in the Inuzuka squad. After all, they boasted brilliant sensory prowess. That left Jiraiya, Akari Sato (both of unremarkable clans), Princess Tsunade, and the orphan with no name. Chiharu decided to pay close attention to those four. And the Uchiha boy. Tobirama explicitly asked her to keep an eye on any Uchihas who came under her care. He didn’t want them in the Academy period, but Hashirama implored him, even from his sick-bed. 

In fact, when Hiromichi Uchiha announced himself as such, Chiharu swore she saw Tsunade inch herself along the bench away from him. Unfortunately, the boy didn’t miss it. 

‘You got a problem, Princess?’ he snarled, spitting the word ‘Princess’ with particular venom. 

Tsunade remembered what she had been told - don’t get into any fights, uphold the Senju name, yadda-yadda-yadda - but it was very hard biting her tongue. She settled instead for a cold stare. Her Uncle had warned her about the Uchihas. She didn’t trust them as far as she could throw them. After all, her grandfather’s best friend had been an Uchiha, and he betrayed him. She knew how much it had hurt him. But Tsunade didn’t know the meaning of prejudice, and merely absorbed what she had been told. It is not an excuse, but she was, unfortunately, a product of her time. They all were. 

‘Now, now,’ Chiharu said, ‘you can bicker in the playground, if you must. For now, carry on introducing yourself.’ 

Tsunade broke her staring contest with Hiromichi. ‘I’m Tsunade. I’m the granddaughter of the First Hokage, the man who built -’

‘ - we know,’ Jiraiya muttered, still stung from their run-in earlier that day. His stark interruption caused the class to start giggling, and Tsunade went a bit red. She had never been laughed at before. 

‘ - and I’m gonna beat all you sorry lot and be top of the class,’ she declared, throwing her nose in the air. 

Chiharu let out a low whistle. Good genetics or not, the girl wouldn’t be winning any popularity contests. 

‘And who might you be?’ Chiharu asked, looking over at Jiraiya.

With impressive gusto, Jiraiya pumped his fist in the air. ‘My name is Jiriaya! I’m gonna be a world-class Shinobi! Even more powerful than the Senjus!’ 

‘Oh, please,’ Tsunade scoffed, ‘you’re about as powerful as a damp towel. There’s no way you’d out-class someone like me.’ 

‘At least I don’t need to rely on my name to make something of myself!’ Jiraiya shot back.

‘Well at least I don’t look like an old man! Why the heck is your hair all white, anyway? You’re like 5!’ Tsunade spat. 

‘Why, you - well at least I don’t throw my weight around and think I’m better than everyone else, you stick-in-the-mud Princess!’ 

‘I don’t think I’m better than everyone else. I just think I’m better than you, which is true.’

‘Is not!’ 

‘Is too!’ 

‘Fat chance you’ll ever beat me, you’re too busy worrying about your precious name-sake!’ 

‘Better to actually have a clan to be proud of than be a nobody like you!’ 

Chiharu almost certainly should have stopped the two brats arguing a lot sooner, but, quite frankly, she found it entertaining. For kids, they were rather articulate. It was only when Tsunade uttered her last insult that Chiharu cleared her throat. And that was only because the orphan boy, Orochimaru, seemed to shrink ever so slightly in his seat at her words. 

‘Pipe down. There’s no need to be at each other’s throats so early in the day,’ she sighed. 

‘But he -’ 

‘And she! -’ 

‘Enough!’ Chiharu barked, her patience finally wearing thin. Jiraiya and Tsunade, teeth grinding, eyes flashing, and fists clenching, thankfully decided to back down. ‘Bloody hell,’ Chiharu thought to herself. ‘I’d best not put those two in a team together.’

*

The day passed fairly uneventfully. They had Taijutsu for the rest of the morning, and Chiharu could already see some stand-out candidates. As expected, Tsunade excelled. As did the Uchiha boy, the Hyuga boy, and, to her great surprise, Orochimaru. While there were certainly shining stars, there were also those who barely lit up a dark room. Jiraiya was hopeless. Kenzou Nara spent most of the time having a nap on the training mat. And the Sato girl didn’t even throw a single punch. 

‘My, my,’ Chiharu muttered to herself. ‘This is going to be an interesting year.’ She lay her head on her desk and sighed heavily, cursing Tobirama and her father for forcing her into this unsavoury position. She was very grateful when lunch rolled around. 

It was interesting, seeing how the kids conducted themselves outside of class. Riku, Isao and Kenzou seemed to gravitate towards each other almost instinctively, as if the Ino-Shika-Cho formation was already engraved in their DNA. Fumihiro Hyuga and Hiromichi, the Uchiha boy, struck up an unlikely repertoire, as if each sensing the other was a fellow sheltered genius and therefore had something to talk about. The Inuzuka twins seemed content playing with each other and their canine companions. The puppies had won the heart of Akari Sato, who squealed over them with glee, and Yua and Yui seemed more than happy to show them off. The Aburame boy was lingering near the trees, poking at various insects. He seemed happy doing it, isolated though he was. 

Jiraiya, meanwhile, was bouncing about the place looking for attention. He eventually won it when Isao eyed his generous lunch (which had been carefully crafted by the dutiful Benjiro, who had fashioned the food into the shape of Konoha’s Leaf Symbol). The four of them chatted away amicably enough, but it soon became clear to Chiharu that they didn’t really care for Jiraiya. They were only after his lunch, in Isao’s case, and his daft antics to pass the time.

Little Orochimaru, trembling with nerves, had attempted to strike up a conversation with Fumihiro and Hiromichi. His logic was, given the similarity in their skill, they might welcome him into their elite group with open arms. He was wrong. They gave him the cold shoulder almost immediately, and Orochimaru was left sitting in the corner of the playground carefully picking through the bento box Mito had given him. Alone. 

Tsunade was having similarly bad luck. She had approached Yua, Yui and Akari, but the three girls were either too terrified to engage in conversation, or too put out by her obvious self-importance to include her in their puppy fawning. So, Tsunade ended up going back inside, to eat alone in the empty classroom. 

Already, friendships were forming. And Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade were very much on the outside.

‘Curious,’ Chiharu said, her thumb resting on her chin. ‘Very curious indeed.’

*

It happened in the final class of the day. Chiharu was lazily running through basic hand-signs - a job which she liked, since she could do it sat down - when Jun flickered into the classroom. 

‘Forgive the intrusion, but I must ask to borrow Princess Tsunade,’ he said. Chiharu caught on immediately. From Jun’s frantic expression, the swollen redness around his eyes, and the sweat on his forehead, it didn’t take a genius to work out what was happening. 

‘Of course. Tsunade, you’re dismissed. Come and see me after for further instruction,’ Chiharu said, jerking her thumb at the door. 

Tsunade obeyed without hesitation. Jun appearing so suddenly could only mean one thing. Willinging herself not to get emotional in front of the whole class, Tsunade grabbed her bag and scuttled off, following Jun. Chiharu sighed after them. 

‘You don’t think…’ Fumihiro muttered.

‘Lord First?’ Kenzou offered. 

‘Nah, no way!’ Jiraiya declared. ‘There’s no way the First Hokage would go out in such an uncool way!’ 

Jiraiya was dead wrong.

‘I - I couldn’t do anything,’ Mito was sobbing. ‘I tried so hard. But he just - he just slipped away and I -’ 

‘Hush, now,’ Tobirama soothed, stroking her back. It was very rare that Mito outwardly showed her emotion, but, on that grave occasion, it was unavoidable. Tobirama himself was struggling to keep it together. His eyes were glassy, but his father’s words burned in the back of his mind. He would never forget how bluntly Butsuma had scolded Itama for crying. Shinobi were not meant to show emotion. And yet, as he looked around the room, all he could see was an outpouring of grief. Komako was crying into Taichi’s chest, who was stifling tears himself. Hiruzen, Koharu and Homura were snivelling in the corner, Hiruzen clearly doing his best to stop the tears trailing down his cheeks. Even little Nawaki was squirming in his cot. But none went to comfort him. They were too busy comforting each other. 

‘I - I can’t believe it. I refuse to,’ Taichi muttered, through gritted teeth. Of course, Taichi’s first instinct was anger. He had admired his father-in-law immensely, not just as a Shinobi but as a man, and to lose him in such a slow and painful way was almost too absurd for him to comprehend. 

Tobirama could see where he was coming from. As he gently hugged Mito to his body, he thought of the last conversation he had with Hashirama. 

_‘This won’t do at all, will it?’ Hashirama murmured, managing a ghost of a smile._

_‘What won’t?’_

_‘Me. This. Dying. Dying warm and safe in my bed. Imagine father’s reaction when I see him up there!’_

_Tobirama sighed. ‘Father would be nothing but proud of you, big brother. Sure, you’re reckless, a bit stupid, lead with your heart rather than your head, have no real understanding of the delicacy of diplomacy, have taught your granddaughter dangerous gambling habits, have no concept of the importance of your position, - ’_

_‘ - aren’t you meant to be comforting me?’ Hashirama frowned. ‘This is my deathbed, after all. It’s in the small print to be nice.’_

_Tobirama managed a smile. ‘But,’ he continued, ‘you are the best of us, Hashirama. Always were. The day you spoke out at Kawarama’s burial was the day I knew I’d follow you to hell and back.’_

_Hashirama blinked at him. ‘You thought I was right, to speak against Father?’_

_‘Yes. I do.’_

_Hashirama shifted in his sheets, and closed his eyes. A moment passed, and Tobirama nudged him._

_‘Hey. You’re not dead already, are you?’_

_A dry chuckle made its way from Hashirama’s mouth. ‘No, brother. I am merely at peace.’_

_‘Peace?’_

_‘Of course. After all, you see my merit not as a Shinobi, but as a human being. And I know the Leaf Village will be left in great, steady hands. I have no doubt that you will be a splendid Hokage, brother,’ he smiled._

_‘You can really rest easy? Truly? Even after Madara…?’_

_An expression of sadness passed over Hashirama’s fading features. ‘Madara chose his path. Perhaps I regret that I could not stop him, but I -’ he broke off in a cough, blood splattering down his chin._

_‘I’ll get Mito -’ Tobirama began, but Hashirama caught his wrist._

_‘No, it’s alright,’ Hashirama managed. ‘I suppose that Madara chose a path too far from my own. And what did it bring him? Certainly not happiness. And you know, brother, if I had the choice again, I would not have acted differently. Not now that I know what waits for me at the end of my own path.’_

_Tobirama nodded knowingly. ‘The Will of Fire is burning in them, isn’t it?’_

_‘Indeed,’ Hashirama smiled. ‘I see it grow stronger in Komako and Tsuna every day. Even in little Nawaki, I reckon.’_

_‘But it’s just our family, you know,’ Tobirama said, looking out the window and catching a glimpse of the Hokage Monument. ‘It’s everyone. The whole village. We are all caught up and dancing with the wind of your Philosophy. Isn’t that an extraordinary thing, brother?’_

_‘It is. It is more than I deserve, I fear.’_

_Tobirama looked back to him. His brother, the First Hokage, the God of Shinobi, and the Founder of the Hidden Leaf Village, looked so frail. Tobirama swallowed thickly. He supposed he should have been grateful that Hashirama lived long enough to make it to 55. It was much more than Itama and Kawarama. But seeing him look so small was more painful than Tobirama thought possible._

_‘No, Hashirama. You deserve all the peace and serenity you have fostered. And I swear to protect it all, in your name,’ Tobirama said gently._

_‘I know you will. I never had any doubt.’_

_The two brothers lapsed into a moment of seemingly endless silence. So far they were from the sounds that assaulted their childhood - those of explosions, the cries of the dying, the clash of blade against blade. All they could hear now were the sounds of peace. The villagers, aimlessly going about their day. The birds, scattered in the cloudless sky. And the wind, sweeping up and carrying a single, budding leaf, caught on a swift thread of breeze._

Tobirama squeezed his eyes shut. There was a knock at the door, and Tsunade flew into the room. She didn’t need anyone to say the inevitable. She could read it on their faces. 

‘Tsuna,’ Mito whispered, as Tsunade burst into tears. ‘Come here, child.’

Tsunade ran over to her, and wept into her lap. Mito stroked the pigtails she had spent so long styling this morning, her fingers delicately running in and out of her blonde hair.

‘It’s okay,’ she soothed, ‘he’s okay, now.’

The Senjus, along with Hashirama’s precious disciples, spent a while there, in the little room, settling into an ebbing flow of unspeakable grief. Each felt it differently. Tobirama had lost a brother - his last remaining brother. Mito had lost the love of her life. Komako had lost her father. Taichi had lost the one man he respected above all else. Hiruzen, Koharu and Homura had lost a dear sensei. And Tsunade had lost her grandpa. Grief, while experienced in different ways, is immeasurable in its gruelling impact. There is no escaping it. 

After a while, Tsunade did something very expected. She tugged on Tobirama’s sleeve, rubbed her eyes, and said: ‘I am so sorry, Uncle Tobirama.’

Tobirama looked down at her little face. ‘Whatever do you mean, child?’ 

Tsunade sniffed, struggling with her words. ‘I - I’m sorry. He was your last brother. I can’t imagine what it’s like, Uncle, to lose a sibling. It must hurt so much. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for you.’

Tobirama felt something like a lump of emotion in his throat. He hadn’t felt it for years. Then, he pulled the small girl into a hug, and allowed himself to cry.


	5. The Beginnings of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still reeling from Hashirama's death, the kids at the Academy deal Tsunade a low blow. Luckily, two unlikely people are there to pick her up. Also, Orochimaru can't cook to save his life. But that's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearly a 100 hits!! Hell yeah!!  
> Thanks for reading this far - I'm glad I've been motivated enough to get round to writing the all-important beginnings of friendship! Next chapter gets beefier plot-wise, since it's the outbreak of the First Shinobi War. I guess there might be a disproportionate focus on Tsunade's family for a little while, since Tobirama has a big role to play, but fear not, they all get their turns for angst!

Chapter Five: The Beginnings of Friendship 

Date: 31 A.K (After Konoha) 

The kids at the Academy got into the habit of avoiding Tsunade after Hashirama’s death. At first, it’s because they too were dealing with the grief. Even though they were young themselves, they were astute enough to understand what losing Lord First meant. The evident pain etched on their parents’ faces was enough to prove that, and the sombre expression that seemed constantly plasted on Lord Second’s face was yet another badge of tragedy they had learnt to notice. But even after a few months, when the village started to feel half normal again, they still avoided her. They didn’t know what to say. 

Tsunade, for her part, didn’t particularly _want_ to talk to any of them. She was occupied with her own grief, and, more worryingly, her father’s. To say Taichi was not an easy man was a huge understatement. After Hashirama’s death, it was like a switch had gone off in his brain. He had become obsessed with ensuring the strength of his daughter. The loss of Lord First, along with his own deep-rooted insecurities about his own prowess, resulted in less than savoury consequences. Of course, Tsunade saw it all as training, not realising how toxic his behaviour was becoming, and kept up as best she could. If Komako noticed, she didn’t say anything. If Mito noticed, she didn’t either. They were both caught in a web of intense grief, one that seemed almost impossible to shake.

One did notice, though. But it took him a while to pluck up the courage to say something.

‘Excuse me, Princess Tsunade?’ Orochimaru whispered, edging closer to her along the bench. It was lunch time, and as usual, each little friendship group had gone to enjoy themselves outside. Orochimaru had taken to eating indoors, not just because he didn’t have anyone to talk to, but because sitting near someone as withdrawn as he made him feel a tiny little bit better. Was that selfish of him, he wondered? To feed off someone else’s grief, as an excuse to mollify his own? Perhaps. But he tried not to dwell on it. 

‘What?’ Tsunade replied, her mouth full of onigiri. She was subconsciously playing with a necklace around her neck. It was very unusual; a turquoise crystal delicately suspended from a thread of black string, framed either side by two silver charms. Mito had presented it to her at Lord First’s funeral, when they stood looking over his photograph, rows of villagers crying behind them. Tsunade thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

‘I...it’s just...you seem rather distracted,’ Orochimaru said. 

Not a total lie. Tsunade nearly nodded off earlier in the middle of Chiharu’s shadow clone jutsu demonstration, which was most unlike her. 

‘Gee, I wonder why?’ Tsunade muttered. 

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. ‘I...I understand how it feels, to lose someone you hold dear. But the thing is...well...you’re bleeding.’ 

Tsunade frowned at him. ‘Huh? What are you talking about?’ 

Orochimaru pointed to her elbow, where a fresh graze had caught the splinters of the tables, and torn. Tsunade muttered something under her breath that sounded very much like ‘stupid shuriken’. The injury was from her training with Taichi the night before, and he had been rather heavy-handed, given she wasn’t even a Genin yet. 

‘Do you need help? I have a hankie, somewhere,’ Orochimaru said. He had grabbed the opportunity like a life-line, recognising it as a chance to be kind like Mito had been, though his eagerness to quell her wound seemed more like the avidity of a leech to suck blood. 

‘No, it’s okay. It’ll only get ruined,’ Tsunade shrugged.

‘Indeed. Blood is terribly difficult to get out of fabric, you know.’

Tsunade shivered (she couldn’t help it), and Orochimaru didn’t miss it. He nibbled his lip, cursing himself for being weird, and tried to find common ground to work with. 

‘Would you like to share my lunch? I made it myself,’ he said, deciding that food was the best way forward.

Tsunade peered into his bento box, and pulled a face. Orochimaru was no culinary mastermind, it seemed. 

‘Er, no thanks. I’ve got my own - you don’t need to share it with me,’ Tsunade replied, feeling the beginnings of awkwardness. 

Orochimaru looked puzzled, thinking back to Mito’s act of kindness. ‘But...I thought...I thought food was something you gave to people you’re concerned for.’

Tsunade blinked at him. ‘Why’re you concerned for me?’

‘You’re hurt.’

‘This?’ Tsunade scoffed, pointing to her elbow. ‘This is nothing. It’s just from training with my father.’

‘Is it nice to train with him?’ Orochimaru asked. 

‘No. Not really,’ Tsunade mumbled. 

The pair were silent for a moment. Orochimaru took a deep breath, mustering all his courage. He decided that he and Tsunade must have been cut from the same cloth - they both were outsiders in the Academy, and while she may have been revered in the village, she was still just a kid. And kids deserve to have friends, right? 

‘Um...Princess Tsunade, I was -’

‘ - you don’t have to call me that, you know,’ Tsunade said, interrupting him and throwing him off. 

Orochimaru felt himself go red. ‘I - but - everyone does, don’t they? I thought it was a mark of respect?’ 

Tsunade clicked her teeth, twirling the blue crystal of her necklace between her fingers. ‘I dunno. I don’t like it much. It was okay when Grandpa called me that, but the whole village saying it just seems...conceited, I guess. I don’t wanna stick out, you know?’ 

Orochimaru did know. He was used to people staring at him, wondering whether he was lost. The more anxious of them asked where his parents were. He could never answer them truthfully. If he did, they would all adopt that sickly expression of exaggerated sympathy, cooing over him, patting his head, and calling him a ‘poor dear’. It set his teeth on edge just thinking about it. If there was one thing Orochimaru couldn’t stand, it was pretenders. Like that idiot Jiraiya, pretending to be tough as nails when he was really soft as daifuku. And people pretending at grief were the absolute worst. How could they possibly understand what he had been through? How could they, in good conscience, pout sadly, sigh heavily, and express ‘I know how you must feel’. No one could come close to what Orochimaru was feeling. No one except, perhaps, a little girl who had just been through a loss of her own. 

‘I see. Well, what should I call you, then?’ Orochimaru asked.

Tsunade sighed and put her hands under her chin. ‘Just...Tsunade. That’s my name, after all.’

Orochimaru nodded. ‘Well, Tsunade. Would you...perhaps you’d like to train with me sometime? After all, there’s no one at home for me, and you said you don’t like to train with your father. We could...mutually benefit.’

Tsunade, much to Orochimaru’s horror, burst out laughing. 

‘Mutually benefit?’ Tsunade chuckled, wiping her eyes. ‘Never heard anyone call it that before, Oro. But sure, why not? Those jerks out there have their own little training sessions going on anyway, so it would be nice to have our own. A super exclusive one, you know?’ 

Orochimaru felt something swell in his chest that he hadn’t felt for a long while. It was happiness. And it wasn’t just because she accepted his bumbling offer, but because he felt he’d found someone his age who might understand his pain. Plus, she’d called him ‘Oro’. No one had called him that before. It had a nice ring to it. 

*

‘Tsk,’ Jiraiya muttered, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. He had just been around the Nara estate, looking for Kenzou, when he found him, he was with Isao and Riku, in the middle of a training session. He had asked to join, immediately fired up, but Kenzou told him it was only for the Ino-Shika-Cho trio. Jiraiya tried to argue, but Isao ended up getting irritated and jabbed him in the chest until he fell over. Naturally, Jiraiya retaliated, and (for want of a much better phrase) had his arse handed to him. 

The sun was starting to dip in the sky, staining the blue with brilliant shocks of golden-orange. Jiraiya sighed. It was the perfect afternoon for training, and all. But he knew none of the other Academy kids would want to train with him. They were all caught up in their own silly little bubbles, and Jiraiya knew what they thought of him. Class clown. Idiot. Hopeless. No clan. Loser. 

‘Whatever. I don’t need them,’ Jiraiya declared, throwing his arms behind his head. He was fully prepared to prove them all wrong - especially that stuck-up Tsunade - but the issue was, he didn’t really perform as well as he wanted to. It was like he could envision how he wanted his body to move - the placement of his feet, the sharp precision of his fists, the strike of his shuriken against the tree trunks - but when it came down to it, he failed. Time and time again. And he was getting bored. Even annoying Tsunade was getting boring, since she stopped retaliating ever since Lord First died. It was even more irritating because Jiraiya actually started to feel _guilty_ for picking on her. She was looking so drained and preoccupied that it seemed harsh to kick her while she was down. Still, he seized his opportunities when he could, just for the fun of it. It earned him attention, which he felt he fully deserved, given his comedic genius. 

Grumbling to himself about how miserably dull his life had suddenly become, Jiraiya heard the unmistakable clash of shuriken against kunai. 

‘Those jerks! They’re training without me!’ Jiraiya cried wildly, deciding it simply must have been fellow Academy students who were working so close to the Academy grounds. Was it Fumihiro and Hiromichi again, trying to awaken their visual jutsu? That was another group he was excluded from - as he was so acutely reminded, having a non-shinobi clan meant he didn’t have any kekkei genkai. That was basically code for he wasn’t special. Gritting his teeth, Jiraiya rounded the corner, expecting to see the Hyuga and Uchiha brats showing off. He was very surprised to find Tsunade and the weird kid, Orochimaru. 

‘Hey, nice one!’ Tsunade panted, just about deflecting a shuriken that staggered through the air towards her. Orochimaru nodded, his expression serious. 

Jiraiya, remaining undetected, gaped at them. He had never seen Tsunade hang out with ‘the peasants’ (he imagined that’s what she thought of them) before, nor had he seen Orochimaru interact with a person who wasn’t his sensei or a Village Official. Whatsmore, they actually seemed to be _enjoying_ themselves. Jiraiya swore on Benjiro’s life that he hadn’t ever seen Orochimaru smile, but as he forced Tsunade to fully dodge his attack, he smirked with pride. 

‘No fair!’ Tsunade pouted. ‘You’re way too good at Taijutsu, Oro!’ 

Jiraiya made a gagging sound. _Oro_? Was she serious?

‘You’ll just have to learn to keep up with me!’ Orochimaru said, throwing another kick. Tsunade threw up her forearms to defend herself, wincing when the heel of his sandal caught the shuriken wound from the other night, before pushing herself forward, throwing him off balance. She used that moment of confusion to aim a punch at his face, but Orochimaru swerved to avoid it. As he did so, a kunai appeared from his sleeve, and he threw it at her. With a flash of cloud, the kunai pierced a log, and Tsunade appeared behind him, grinning. 

‘S-substitution?’ Orochimaru gasped. ‘Since when can you do that, Tsuna?’ 

_Tsuna_? Jiraiya felt like he was about to bring up his lunch. 

‘Father taught me,’ Tsunade smirked, wiping sweat from her forehead. ‘Though it’s the first time I’ve been able to use it in a fight!’

‘Well he’s sure to be impressed! You did a good job!’ 

‘Oh please, I know you’ve been able to do that jutsu since day one!’ 

Jiraiya had had enough of this simperingly sweet display of camaraderie. Not only was it nauseating, seeing those two act like they had been friends forever, but he was also feeling the beginnings of envy boil in his stomach. How on earth could that weirdo Orochimaru have made a friend before him? And Princess Tsunade, of all people? Plus, this was yet another training session that he’d not been invited to. All that was left was for Daichi Aburame to reject him, and he’d have a full house. 

‘Hey!’ Jiraiya called, running over to them. ‘Where was my invitation to this little training session, eh?!’ 

Tsunade and Orochimaru turned around in surprise, and adopted two very different expressions. Tsunade looked ready to kill him, for one reason or another, while Orochimaru looked bashful, as if he actually felt guilty for not inviting him along. 

Folding her arms, Tsunade glared at him. ‘And why the hell would we invite someone like you? Training is for improving ourselves, and having an idiot like you interfere would only slow us down.’ 

‘What’d you say, you jerk?!’

‘Unless your ears are as dense as your brain, you’d have heard what I said,’ Tsunade said, sticking out her tongue. 

Jiraiya clenched his fists, feeling his face grow hot with anger. ‘Then how about you take me on, and I’ll show you how good I am?! Or are you too chicken?!’ 

Tsunade raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m not chicken. I just have better things to do than waste my time on you, when Oro can actually teach me something and give me a hand.’ 

‘What’s he got that I haven’t?’ Jiraiya shot back, throwing a finger at poor Orochimaru. ‘I mean, he doesn’t even have a family name, let alone a shinobi clan!’

‘My parents were shinobi, actually,’ Orochimaru said quietly. He was partly surprised by his own boldness to speak up, but being around Tsunade most of the day had started to give him a bit of confidence. 

‘Yeah, well, my dad is a Chuunin!’ Jiraiya said. 

‘And mine is a Jonin. So your point is completely irrelevant,’ Tsunade said. 

‘If our parents are so irrelevant, then, how come you won’t let me train with you?’ 

‘Because you’ve been at my throat since day one!’ Tsunade said. ‘Seriously, every time I thought you’d gotten over your pathetic vendetta against me, you’d start mouthing off again! It’s annoying!’ 

‘Yeah? Well that’s because you started it!’ 

‘Don’t make me finish it.’ 

Orochimaru took a hasty step between the pair before they could start doing some actual damage. He was fully aware that Tsunade would likely plummet Jiraiya into the ground without a second thought, and, rightly or wrongly, he didn’t think the boy deserved it. 

‘C’mon, Tsu,’ he said gently, ‘let bygones be bygones.’

‘You sound like Grandpa,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘He always said that to Uncle Tobirama whenever he got all hot-headed.’

‘Hot-headed? Must run in the family,’ Jiraiya scoffed.

‘At least something is running through my family!’ Tsunade snapped, wishing her comeback sounded as quick-witted in reality as it did inside her head. ‘I mean, you’ve inherited nothing from your father, clearly! He’s wise and generous, and can use good jutsu, while you’re nothing but a blundering dunderhead with no skill or dexterity or anything!’

‘You are such a snob!’ Jiraiya snarled. ‘Just because you reckon you’re some sort of hot-shot, you think you can talk down to me! And you know, if such powerful jutsu run through your family, how come you can’t use wood style?!’

Tsunade pushed past Orochimaru and grabbed Jiraiya by the collar. ‘What did you say, you little punk?!’

‘You heard me!’

Tsunade gritted her teeth. She had had an earful from Taichi about wood style every night since Hashirama’s death, and she was getting sick of it. Besides, she was still young - it might take a while to develop. That’s what she told herself, anyway. 

‘Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Let it go. He’s not worth it.’

Tsunade looked ready to punch Jiraiya into the middle of next week (as she would many times in the years to come), but on that occasion, she steadied her breathing, and loosened her grip. Jiraiya, however, did not back down. 

‘Why does everyone think that?’ he cried. ‘Why does everyone think I’m not worth anything?! It isn’t my fault I’m not a Senju, or a prodigy, or that I don’t have any kekkei genkai! But that doesn’t make me worthless!’ 

Tsunade and Orochimaru blinked at him. They were used to cocky, loud-mouthed Jiraiya, who claimed on a daily basis that he would dominate the world and become the greatest ninja Konoha had ever known. It was the first time they heard someone honest come out of his mouth. 

‘I...I didn’t mean that,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I just wanted to stop you two fighting.’

‘Does it really bother you that much?’ Tsunade asked. 

Orochimaru lowered his eyes. ‘Yes. It does.’ 

Tsunade huffed. ‘Well I’m sorry, Oro, but sometimes you just gotta teach people a lesson.’ 

‘But it’s so foolish. You’re...you’re both being fools.’ 

Tsunade gaped at him. He had been nothing but respectful and kind towards her for most of the day. ‘What?’

Orochimaru balled his fists up. ‘Because you two are from the same village, aren’t you? You have your differences and your judgements and your vendettas, clearly, but at the heart of it, you share a home. Why be enemies when you can be comrades?’

Tsunade and Jiraiya both fell silent, feeling inklings of shame. 

‘And...and you know what?’ Orochimaru said, swallowing thickly. ‘It’s even worse to treat each other like enemies when shinobi from our village are out risking their lives against the _real_ enemies. There’s no need to hate each other over a difference in station. And in that case, you can learn from each other, can’t you? You have different experiences, and therefore, different things to offer. It’s childish to keep bickering when you can benefit from each other’s company, as comrades. Or even as friends. As team-mates.’ 

Orochimaru let out a long breath, before looking thoroughly embarrassed. He put his hands over his mouth and bowed his head quickly in apology. 

‘I - I’m sorry,’ he stammered. ‘I didn’t mean to snap, I just -’

‘ - no, you’re right,’ Tsunade interrupted. ‘You don’t need to apologise.’ 

‘I - I am?’ 

‘Yeah. I...you’re right,’ she nodded. She looked at Jiraiya, pressing her lips together. Then, somewhat begrudgingly, she offered two of her fingers. 

‘What are you doing?’ Jiraiya said, looking at her in confusion. 

‘It’s the seal of reconciliation, you idiot!’ Tsunade snarled, before composing herself. ‘It’s, you know, the thing you do after sparring to show you’re still comrades.’ 

‘But we didn’t spar.’ 

Tsunade rolled her eyes. ‘Bloody hell, do you _want_ me to spar with you?’ 

Jiraiya rubbed the back of his head. ‘I mean, that’s the whole reason I came over here in the first place. To spar. To train, you know?’

Rubbing her eyebrow in irritation, Tsunade let out a sigh. ‘Right. Fine. Whatever. But after, we’re doing the seal, okay?’

Jiraiya’s eyes lit up. ‘You mean it? You guys will train with me?’

‘That’s what I just said, didn’t I?’ Tsunade hissed. 

Jiraiya leapt into the air with a cry of triumph. ‘Hell yes! I promise, it’ll be worth it!’ 

‘I’m sure,’ Tsunade muttered dryly. 

The three future Sannin trained until the evening light was almost completely gone. It was clear that Orochimaru and Tsunade were head and shoulders above Jiraiya, but for once, it didn’t bother him so much. His body might not have done exactly what he envisioned, but getting to train with people his age, and who actually had started to take him seriously, was all he really wanted. So what if he wasn’t a Senju, like Tsunade? So what if he wasn’t a prodigy, like Orochimaru? They were respecting him by sparring with him. They were putting him on their level. And, after weeks of rejection, that was more than enough to satisfy him. 

Orochimaru was the first to leave, citing the low sun as an excuse. In reality, he wanted to visit his parents’ graves. He hadn’t been yet. He usually went straight after the Academy day ended, but he’d been preoccupied with Tsunade. He couldn’t wait to tell them that he’d made a friend - the grand-daughter of the Hokage, no less. ‘Actually,’ he corrected himself, ‘I’ve made two friends.’

‘What was that, Oro?’ Tsunade asked. 

He turned back to look at them, blushing when he realised he had said it outloud. As he did, his heart grew with joy when he saw them engaged in the seal of reconciliation. Jiraiya was looking a bit embarrassed, and Tsunade was grouchy, but it was a start. 

‘Nothing,’ Orochimaru said, giving them the first genuine smile they had seen. ‘I’ll see you two tomorrow, yes?’

‘You bet!’ Jiraiya said, punching the air.

‘Of course! And maybe tomorrow we can share our lunches? My mother makes some mean tamagoyaki!’ 

Orochimaru beamed at them. ‘Sounds good. I’ll be sure to bring extra!’ 

As he set off, Tsunade let out a long and weary sigh. Jiraiya glanced at her from out of the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrows. 

‘What was that for?’ he asked. 

Tsunade pulled a face. ‘It’s just...I shouldn’t have suggested that. Judging from his lunch today, Orochimaru has all the culinary skills of a goldfish.’ 

Jiraiya snorted. ‘Aw, it’ll be fine. Besides, if we get really desperate, I’m sure Isao will be there in a shot to hoover up any extras. I wouldn’t be surprised if he resorted to snacking on Daichi’s insects in the middle of class if he got peckish.’ 

Tsunade laughed at that, and Jiraiya couldn’t help but admire her. When she was care-free and smiling, she was pretty. Clearing his throat, Jiraiya opened his mouth to say something, when he spotted a glint of blue on the grass near his feet. He bent down and scooped up Tsunade’s necklace. It must have fallen off when they were training. 

‘Hey, I think you dropped this,’ he said, holding it out to her.

Tsunade gasped and felt for it out of reflex, before she grabbed it and fastened it around her neck. 

‘Thanks. Grandmother would have killed me if I lost it,’ she said. 

‘It...it was Lord First’s, wasn’t it?’ Jiraiya asked tentatively. He was quite enjoying the truce Orochimaru had encouraged, and didn’t want to scare her off by making her upset. 

Tsunade looked at her feet. ‘Yeah. It’s super rare, apparently. I...maybe I shouldn’t have it. I mean, I clearly can’t take care of it.’

Jiraiya shook his head. ‘Don’t be stupid, Tsunade. You just dropped it, that’s all, and it’s not like you left without it. Besides, you’re a Senju, aren’t you? It’s the Senju necklace. So it belongs to the best Senju there is.’ 

Tsunade gripped the pendant in her hand, before she smiled. ‘You think I’m the best of them, then?’ 

Jiraiya blushed. ‘I - I mean - I don’t - not in terms of power, or anything, you know, cus’ that would be stupid since Lord Second is literally the Hokage and could blow us all out the water if he wanted to and stuff and I’m sure your mother is also super powerful, but, like, in terms of personality, you know, you’re the only Senju I’ve spent proper time with and now you’re not trying to kill me and whatever I think you’re pretty decent and -’ 

Tsunade was laughing again, and Jiraiya stopped his rambling at the sound, cutting himself short to save any further word vomit. 

‘Thanks, I think,’ she grinned. 

‘Anytime,’ Jiraiya said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. 

That was the day Jiraiya and Tsunade became friends. Coincidentally, it was also the day Tsunade and Orochimaru became friends, and, as if by a lucky stroke of a paintbrush, as did Orochimaru and Jiraiya. Looking back, they might have thought it peculiar that it all began thanks to Orochimaru’s mustering of courage, that was just enough to persuade Tsunade into his scope. It wasn’t just peculiar, though. It was sad. Because the one who managed to connect them together was, by a tragic stroke of the same paintbrush, the one who would ultimately tear them apart. 


	6. The Dawn of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danzo is scheming, Tobirama is anxious, and Jiraiya stands up for his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, would you look at that! I'm getting nice feedback, kudos, and hits! Thank you so much <3  
> I seem to be on a bit of a roll writing-wise, so I'm gonna ride this high before I burn out. That being said, since I write and upload literally every other day, I don't do an awful lot of proof reading. I'm a writer normally so I think it should be up to scratch, but if there are any errors, please let me know!! I'm always ready to learn new stuff and the like.  
> Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter Six: The Dawn of War 

Date: 31 A.K (After Konoha) 

‘You’re not serious?’ Hiruzen said, standing in front of Tobirama’s desk in the Hokage Mansion. The man in question was looking grave, his hands folded under his chin.

‘I wouldn’t joke about such a matter, Hiruzen,’ he replied. 

‘But...but the Warring States Period only ended 31 years ago. And the late Lord First achieved peace, did he not? By splitting the Tailed Beasts?’ Hiruzen said, reeling from shock. 

‘Indeed. But peace is fragile, and the boundaries between friend and foe are blurred and ever-changing. I cannot say I’m surprised,’ Tobirama said. 

‘But we shinobi lost so much,’ Hiruzen said, shaking his head. ‘How can this be? How can war be on the horizon once more?’

‘Because so long as people continue to co-exist, we can never understand each other,’ a voice said. Hiruzen turned to see Danzo, who was basking in the shadowy corner of the Hokage office. 

‘Danzo? What do you know of this?’ Hiruzen asked.

Danzo looked at Tobirama, who nodded at him, granting him permission to speak.

‘I have been conducting my own investigations into the operations of the other Shinobi villages, particularly Iwagakure. I do not trust Ishikawa, the Tsuchikage, and for good reason. The running of Iwagakure has cause for concern. They seem to want to expand their lands and influence. And we are not the only ones who noticed - Sunagakure also appears to be engaging under Reto. Not surprising. They lack resources, being in a desert.’

‘But that cannot be,’ Hiruzen said. ‘Lord Ishikawa and Lord Reto were both present when Lord First split the Tailed Beasts, were they not? Why would they destroy the peace Lord First so humbly constructed?’ 

‘Power. Control. Resources,’ Danzo said, counting them on his fingers. ‘Like I said, Sunagakure pulled the short straw by building up in the desert. And the mentality of Iwagakure has always been one of expansion. This was always going to happen.’

‘And we can predict that Kumogakure and Kirigakure will get involved if Iwagakure and Sunagakure threaten the borders. It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that war, between the Five Great Nations, is very much a morbid probability,’ Tobirama said.

Hiruzen sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. ‘How soon?’

‘I cannot say for certain,’ Danzo said. ‘I’ll need to run further reconnaissance.’

‘I’m surprised you didn’t actually tell me that’s what you were assigned to do,’ Hiruzen said, his tone slightly accusatory. ‘You can trust me, you know.’

‘It is not a matter of trust, young Hiruzen,’ Tobirama said. ‘It is a matter of discretion. As a nation, things are turbulent enough as they are, what with my late brother’s death, and the less people who are aware of the mounting tension, the better. That being said, we ought to organise a team for reconnaissance, if you think it wise, Danzo.’

Danzo nodded. ‘It would be useful. I can only do so much on my own. Speaking of which, Lord Second, I have a proposal, of sorts.’

Tobirama leant back in his seat. ‘Go on.’

Danzo, who had started to pace the room with the gait of a jungle cat stalking its prey, chose his words carefully. ‘I have had some time to think about the general goings-on in Konoha. And while I was on my mission, I developed a certain line of thinking even more. You see, if Konoha is like a great tree, with you, Lord Hokage, at the top, and the branches and lush green leaves are the Shinobi poplace, we will flourish rather successfully.’

‘I can’t say I understand your metaphor, but carry on,’ Tobirama said dryly. He was a straight-to-the-point kind of man, and certainly not one to mince his words, so Danzo’s theatrical rendition was already starting to grate on his last nerve.

If Danzo sensed Tobirama’s displeasure, it didn’t discourage him. ‘Well, I couldn’t help but wonder what fuels the great tree. I couldn’t help but wonder what work must go on in the roots. The unseen power that supports the great tree of Konoha from the depths of the earth. As a result, I have been considering the development of a new faction. One that operates in the shadows, as I have been doing, to protect the light. It would be a place of learning, secrecy, and power. Yes, power is important. We could select the cream of the crop from the new recruits, and train them up.’

‘But we already have such a faction, Danzo,’ Hiruzen said. ‘The ANBU are pretty much doing what you have just described.’

‘Not in the most effective way,’ Danzo replied. ‘The ANBU serves the Hokage, but my faction, the root of the tree, shall we say, would serve Konoha, and Konoha alone. Solely from the shadows.’

Tobirama narrowed his eyes. ‘You almost speak of treason, Danzo. A faction completely independent of the Hokage? It’s absurd.’

‘Forgive me, Lord Hokage, I think you misunderstand,’ Danzo said, bowing his head. ‘I merely meant that it would be a place that operates not outside of the Hokage, per se, but one that operates for the benefit of Konoha more than for the benefit of one figurehead.’

‘But the Hokage represents the desires of Konoha,’ Tobirama said. 

‘Not always,’ Danzo said. ‘As I have observed, sometimes, the Kage does not represent the respective village’s best interests. I have no doubt that you, Lord Hokage, being the honourable man that you are, would work to guide Konoha in a mutually beneficial direction. But what of your predecessor? What of the future, which is unknown to us? It would be foolish to risk a village for the sake of one power-hungry individual hell bent on triggering a war. I know for a fact that many of the Shinobi of Sunagakure do not support Reto’s movements, and yet, there is nothing to stop him.’ 

‘You speak from a point of anxiety, it seems,’ Tobirama said. 

‘Not just that, Lord Hokage. I am speaking from observable experience,’ Danzo said. 

Tobirama sighed, and looked over Danzo’s shoulder to where the portrait of Hashirama gazed solemnly from the wall. 

‘You make a good case, Danzo. But now is not the time for such discussions or changes,’ he said. ‘We are on the brink of war, and we must ensure we are in the best position possible to combat ourselves against it. Starting a new faction will require resources we do not have the time to source and develop.’ 

Danzo had always been good at controlling his emotions. So, when anger surged through his gut, his face did not betray him. He merely nodded, and bowed his head. 

‘I will not forget this, Danzo,’ Tobirama said. ‘Approach me when the war is over - or, better yet, if it never even starts.’

‘Yes, Lord Hokage.’ 

‘Now, onto more pressing matters - have you any idea who you want to aid you on your further reconnaissance?’

‘Hm,’ Danzo nodded. ‘I require a four-man squad, including myself. I would, if he is willing, ask Hiruzen.’

‘Of course I’ll go,’ Hiruzen said at once. ‘With your permission, Sensei.’ 

Tobirama nodded slowly. ‘I suppose we could spare you, so long as some Jonin remain in the village for security. It will be a long mission away, after all. Who else, Danzo?’

‘You may protest, given he is your family, but Taichi would be very useful. His chakra manipulation jutsu can enable a Shinobi to completely mask his presence, which is vital. Equally, while a Chuunin, Benjiro would be an ideal candidate. His skills in infiltration are almost on par with mine. Finally, taking a Byakugan user would be essential. I wouldn’t ask the Head of the Family due to the risk this mission carries, so I might ask for your advice.’

Tobirama nodded. ‘I would recommend Kairi Hyuga. She is part of the Main Branch, and her mastery of the Byakugan more than proves that. I am happy to approve her and Benjiro, but Taichi, I worry about.’

‘Why? He is a very capable ninja,’ Hiruzen said, surprised. He had known Taichi for a long while - they had even been on several missions together. 

‘It is...a delicate matter,’ Tobirama said stiffly. ‘I shan’t say much on his behalf, but he has been deeply affected by Hashirama’s passing. I do not think he is in his right mind, if his current treatment of Tsuna is anything to go by.’

‘What do you mean?’ Hiruzen asked. 

‘He is being rather overzealous, I think, with her training. It seems to border on obsession. I have had words with him, as has my niece, but there are some things that even the most sound minds cannot penetrate. Hashirama was his role model. It is not an easy adjustment to make, especially living here,’ Tobirama admitted.

Hiruzen frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. 

‘Surely, then, time away from Konoha might help heal his wounds,’ Danzo said. 

Tobirama closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them again. ‘Perhaps you are right, Danzo.’

There was a brief period of quiet as Tobirama processed Danzo’s request. It might indeed help Taichi get over the loss, but even more than that, it would give Tsunade a welcome break. As tough as she was (‘for a child,’ Tobirama thought), his consistently brutal training was starting to take its toll. Whatsmore, Hiruzen might be a good influence on him, as his friend. 

‘Very well, Danzo. You have my permission. I will summon the respective members of your team now, and you will leave at first light.’

*

‘Oh, that’s pretty impressive!’ Jiraiya whistled, shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed up at the newly-constructed Hokage stone face. 

‘I dunno. I think he looks a bit stern,’ Tsunade said, kicking her legs over the edge of Jiraiya’s roof. 

‘With all due respect, I think Lord Second does look a bit stern in general,’ Orochimaru said meekly. ‘He scares me.’

‘Least you don’t have to live with him. He’s extra scary before breakfast,’ Tsunade chuckled.

‘What’s it like living in the Mansion, Tsunade? I’ve always wondered,’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Busy,’ Tsunade said. ‘I mean, we have our own wing and everything, and a nice private courtyard and stuff, but there’s always people about, you know? Never seems like there’s a moment of quiet. If it’s not someone stomping up the stairs to report to Uncle Tobirama, it’s ninja wandering around carrying stacks of paper, or people arguing in the offices, or Nawaki crying, or mother and father bickering, or -’

‘ - sheesh, forget I asked,’ Jiraiya said, cutting off her rambling.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. 

‘That sounds rather nice, come to think of it,’ Orochimaru said softly. ‘It’s far too quiet in my house. It’s like a place for the dead.’

Jiraiya and Tsunade exchanged a look. Orochimaru had a habit of being a bit sadistic and creepy, and while they didn’t hold it against him, when he said such things, it was hard to know how to respond. In the end, they didn’t have to.

‘Jiraiya?’ Benjiro called. ‘Hey, where are you?’ 

‘Up here, pa!’

Benjiro awkwardly clambered through the window and climbed onto the flat roof, where he had to double-take. Of all the people in Konoha he expected to find on his roof, Princess Tsunade was certainly not one of them.

‘I - Princess Tsunade! What a pleasant surprise!’ he spluttered, bowing. 

‘Aw, Dad, don’t do that,’ Jiraiya said, waving his hand in the air. ‘Tsunade doesn’t like it.’ 

‘F-forgive me,’ Benjiro said, straightening up.

‘It’s okay!’ Tsunade said cheerily. ‘Thanks for letting us hang out here, by the way!’ 

Benjiro didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had no idea they were there, nor that they weren’t actually allowed on the roof. The landlord would have his head. But she looked so happy - and having seen her in the depths of grief, he didn’t want to risk wiping the smile off her face, if he could help it.

‘Jiraiya,’ he said, ‘looks like you’re going to be on your own for a little while. Lord Hokage has just summoned me, and I’m to be going on a lengthy mission away from the village. I could be gone for several months.’

Jiraiya stared at him. His father had never been called away from the village for such a long time before - as much as he lamented the fact that Benjiro wasn’t an overpowered and kick-ass ninja, he was privately relieved that his position meant he didn’t get sent away often.

‘What? Why? On what mission?’ Jiraiya said, jumping up.

‘I’m not at liberty to say, I’m afraid,’ Benjiro said. ‘But...let’s just say your old man is a little cooler than you’ve been giving him credit for.’

Smirking, he leaned forward and ruffled his son’s hair. ‘You’ll be alright, won’t you?’

Jiraiya, who had shrugged him off out of embarrassment - Orochimaru and Tsunade were right there, after all - put his hands on his hips. ‘Of course I will be! I’m practically a Genin already! I can look after myself just fine!’

‘Bit of an overstatement, Jiraiya. You nearly fell off the roof earlier,’ Tsunade said.

Jiraiya glared at her as Benjiro burst out laughing. 

‘Ah, well it’s a good thing he has you to keep an eye on him, Princess Tsunade,’ he grinned. ‘And who might you be, young man? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.’

He smiled at Orochimaru as the small boy instinctively flinched away on his arrival. He was still getting used to people. Really, Jiraiya and Tsunade were the only two he was starting to feel comfortable around. 

‘Orochimaru,’ he said, his voice hardly a whisper.

‘Well, Orochimaru,’ Benjiro said, ‘can I rely on you to keep an eye on my reckless son while I’m away on a village errand?’ 

Orochimaru nodded vigorously, desperate to please.

‘See? I’ll be just fine, pa,’ Jiraiya said, sticking out his fist. Benjiro bumped his own fist against Jiraiya’s, and grinned. 

‘I’m glad to hear it! I’ll get Jun and other Leaf Officials to check in on you nonetheless. Make sure you’re eating properly and whatnot. Speaking of which, how about we go out for barbecue? I don’t leave ‘till tomorrow morning, and it’ll be nice to spend some quality time together before I take off.’

‘Hell yes!’ Jiraiya said, leaping in the air. ‘That would be awesome!’

‘Tsunade, Orochimaru, you are both more than welcome to come along, too. My treat, of course!’ Benjiro beamed. 

Tsunade and Orochimaru looked at each other, as if both confirming the other would take up Benjiro’s offer, before they both said ‘yes!’ in unison.

*

Benjiro smiled to himself as he watched the three future Sannin argue over who’s meat on the grill was who’s. Well, it is more accurate to say that Tsunade and Jiraiya were arguing. Orochimaru just seemed happy to be there. Besides, for some reason, the black-haired boy seemed to like his meat very rare. But ultimately, Benjiro was smiling because he was happy Jiraiya had finally made some friends his age. Sure, one seemed to barely tolerate him, and the other one was borderline creepy, but it didn’t matter. Jiraiya had found people to care for. That was all that mattered. 

‘Hey, that bit was definitely mine!’ Tsunade protested, as Jiraiya swiped a thin slice of beef from the coals. 

‘Too slow, _Princess_ ,’ Jiraiya mocked, sticking out his tongue. Ever since he had figured out she found her title irritating (if it wasn’t coming from her grandfather or Uncle), Jiraiya used it to annoy her. Like a fishing hook skewing an unsuspecting salmon, it worked every time. 

‘Call me that one more time, and you won’t even be able to eat the food, let alone steal mine,’ she hissed.

‘Now, now,’ Benjiro said mildly, ‘there’s plenty enough for all of you. And if not, we can just order more!’

‘Are...are you sure you don’t mind paying for all this, Mr. Benjiro?’ Orochimaru asked. ‘I can make a contribution. I get a fair wage from the Leaf Officials, after all.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Orochimaru. And enough with the ‘Mr’ - Benjiro is just fine,’ Benjiro replied, patting the boy gently on the shoulder. Orochimaru glowed from the sign of affection, and returned to his meal. Benjiro observed him rather sadly - Jiraiya had mentioned that one his classmates was an unnamed orphan, but he didn’t expect someone as polite, intelligent and meek as Orochimaru to be the orphan in question. In most cases, parentless children were at risk of going off the rails - which was extremely valid, given the circumstances - but he would never have guessed Orochimaru fended for himself. He was a delight. 

The same could not be said for ‘Princess’ Tsunade. The girl ate like a horse, had the manners of a badly trained house cat, and spoke like a seasoned sailor. But Benjiro found it to be pretty hilarious. The paradox between the royal aura she possessed and the actual facts of her personality made for quite the entertaining evening. He decided that Jiraiya had good taste in friends. It would serve him well. 

‘How are you two finding the Academy, then? Jiraiya speaks highly of your performances in class, it must be said,’ Benjiro grinned. 

‘Do not,’ Jiraiya huffed. 

‘I love it!’ Tsunade said, so enthusiastically that she nearly sloshed her drink down her front. ‘Chiharu-sensei is really cool and she’s teaching us all sorts of awesome stuff! Plus, she reckons most of us will be ready to take the Genin exam before the end of the year, she’s so impressed with us!’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Benjiro nodded. ‘After all, you have some impressive classmates - isn’t one of them an Uchiha?’ 

Tsunade’s face darkened. ‘Yeah. He’s a bit of a jerk, though.’

‘You’re only saying that cus’ he doesn’t like you,’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Which isn’t actually my fault.’ 

‘For once.’ 

Jiraiya yowled in pain as Tsunade aimed a kick at him from under the table. 

‘What about you, Orochimaru?’ Benjiro asked, ignoring the colourful language tumbling from his son’s mouth as he rubbed his shin. ‘You enjoying Academy life?’ 

Before he could answer, a voice called out across the restaurant. 

‘Tsunade?’ it boomed. ‘I know you’re here, Tsuna. Jun spotted you.’

Tsunade, who had seemed to have shrunk in her seat, tentatively stuck her hand up so she could be seen from the booth. The sounds of footsteps marching over were almost as ominous as the expression on Taichi’s face as he approached them. 

‘What on earth are you doing?’ he demanded. ‘You know full well you have training this evening. Don’t tell me you’re playing truant?’ 

‘Training? It’s rather late in the day for that, eh, Taichi?’ Benjiro said brightly. He and Taichi had been at the Academy together, and, once upon a time, had been rather close. But ever since he married Komako and got wrapped up in the Senju affairs, Benjiro had hardly seen him. Their mission tomorrow would be the first time they’d spent time together in years.

‘Ben?’ Taichi said, clearly surprised. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘Treating my son and his friends to a meal,’ Benjiro said, gesturing to the generous spread. ‘You’re welcome to join, if you want. It’ll give you a chance to kick your feet up before tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’ Tsunade said, her ears pricking up. ‘Are you going on that mission too, father?’ 

‘Well, you’d know if you’d have come home on time like I requested,’ Taichi said, an edge to his voice. Tsunade faltered and lowered her eyes in apology. 

‘One evening off can’t hurt, old friend,’ Benjiro said, sensing the mounting tension. ‘Come, join us. The kids were just telling me about the Academy.’ 

‘I don’t care about the Academy,’ Taichi snapped. ‘The whole thing is a waste of time. They don’t even bother with the high-level techniques that would actually benefit the children and the village come times of conflict. They’re too busy wrapped up in the basics of so-called team-work and strategy. It’s pointless to put them through it.’ 

Taichi was very much a product of the Shimura Clan’s Academy reign. As Chiharu had noted, the system damaged the kids it taught to the extent where they saw raw power as the only possible route to dominance. Benjiro, rather fortunately, had his mind changed by his Sensei, and learnt that there were much more valuable Shinobi traits to be fostered (ones he hoped he would pass down to his son). Taichi was not so lucky. 

‘Come now, Taichi,’ Benjiro said uncomfortably. ‘The Academy has come on leaps and bounds since we were little squirts. It is a brilliant system, if I do say so myself, and one I hope the other Great Shinobi Villages will model after.’ 

‘I rather think Kirigakure has the right idea,’ Taichi said darkly. Thankfully, his assertion went straight over the heads of Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru, who were watching the two adults exchange words awkwardly. Kirigakure, as Benjiro was acutely aware, was rumoured to force its students to fight to the death if they wished to graduate. It was a brutal and bloody system, and certainly not one that would positively foster future generations. As a result, Taichi’s words troubled Benjiro greatly. But it was not the time for it. 

‘In any case,’ Benjiro said, clearing his throat, ‘could Tsunade return home after she’s finished eating? I can’t imagine she’ll be very effective at training on an empty stomach, after all!’ 

Benjiro let out a long laugh, hoping to ease the tension. It didn’t work.

‘She’s not effective at training under most circumstances,’ Taichi said, through gritted teeth. ‘I can’t see how a full stomach would help that.’ 

Before Benjiro could reply, Jiraiya had, unexpectedly, jumped up from his seat. 

‘Hey!’ he said. ‘You take that back!’

Taichi eyed him cooly. ‘And who, may I ask, are you?’

‘I’m Jiraiya!’ he said, pointing at Taichi with an energised flick of his wrist. ‘And I’m Tsunade’s friend! So I can say for a fact that she’s one of the strongest in our class, and is absolutely super-duper great at training!’

‘Jiraiya…’ Tsunade muttered, but she couldn’t help but smile at the knuckle-headed idiot’s defensive words. 

‘Pipe down, Jiraiya,’ Benjiro hissed. 

‘No, it’s alright,’ Taichi said, a peculiar expression on his heavily scarred face. Benjiro didn’t trust it one bit. ‘Tell me, young Jiraiya, did you not notice the problem with your words just then?’ 

Jiraiya drummed his fingers on his chin in mock-though. ‘Uh-uh. I said what I said, and I meant it.’

‘Well,’ Taichi said, smiling unpleasantly, ‘you said my Tsuna was ‘one of the strongest’, did you not?’ 

‘Well, yeah, but that’s only because Orochi -’ 

‘ - and that is where the problem lies,’ Taichi said, cutting across him. ‘You might not understand it right now, but there will come a time when you must be the strongest you can be. My daughter especially. You see, she is a Senju. She is of the founding clan of Konoha. She has no choice but to be the most powerful Shinobi in the Land of Fire - like her Grandfather before her, and now, like her Grand-Uncle. One day, perhaps soon, even, Lord Second will not be here to bail you out of trouble. When Konoha is at its most vulnerable, you children must be at your absolute best. And right now, Tsunade is not even close to the mark. Do you understand that?’ 

Jiraiya pouted. ‘Sounds to me like you’re not giving her enough credit.’

‘Jiraiya, be quiet,’ Benjiro said. ‘It is not our business to discuss their relationship.’

Taichi was bearing his teeth in another nasty smile. ‘Your son is a bold one, Ben. Be sure to keep him reigned in.’ 

Benjiro clenched his fists under the table. 

‘Father,’ Tsunade said, her voice meek, ‘I...I would like to stay for a little while, if that’s okay. I’ve been having a nice time, and -’

‘ - you think you can afford to sit around and have a nice time, do you? While your Grandfather is still fresh in his grave, killed from the side-effects of his own battles in the name of protection?’ Taichi hissed. Tsunade’s face fell, and she winced at his words. 

‘Taichi, she is just a child,’ Benjiro said, his voice firmer. ‘She needs a break as much as the next kid.’ 

‘Not good enough,’ Taichi muttered. 

‘And surely you need your rest, too? We’re to be leaving on a long mission at first light, old friend, so why not call it a night?’ Benjiro said, trying a different method of approach to quell him. 

‘I am not your friend. You betrayed me the moment you went soft,’ Taichi spat. 

‘Hey!’ Jiraiya cried. ‘Don’t speak to my old man like that!’ 

‘Your ‘old man’ is a prime example of the failures of the system, and of consequences of slacking off,’ Taichi said. ‘Take a good look. I, a man who has focused all his time and energy on training to be strong, have achieved Jonin status, married into the strongest Clan in the Land of Fire, and have become notorious for my strength. While your father here has done the opposite, relied on others for strength, and has allowed his ‘clan’, if we can call it such, fade into obscurity. Tell me, what would you choose, given the opportunity? To be strong, or to be weak?’

‘Father, stop it,’ Tsunade said, but her words were drowned out by Jiraiya.

‘I don’t care what you say!’ he shouted. ‘If...if it’s a choice between being strong and like you, or soft and like my pa, I know what I’d choose in a heartbeat! I’d rather remain weak all my life than become a man like you!’ 

Benjiro almost teared up at his son’s earnest words. 

‘Then you are a fool,’ Taichi said, shrugging. 

‘Guess I’ll be a fool forever then, cus’ there’s no way in hell I’ll turn out like you.’

Taichi’s eyes darkened. 

‘Tsunade,’ he muttered, ‘if you don’t follow me out of this door right this second, there will be...grave consequences.’

Tsunade visibly paled. She didn’t doubt her father’s words one bit, and that scared her. As Taichi stormed off, his huge frame sweeping out of the restaurant, Tsunade scrambled to her feet.

‘You’re not seriously going, are you?!’ Jiraiya spluttered.

Tsunade bit her lip. ‘I have to. I’m sorry. I just...I really don’t want to make him angry.’ 

Benjiro clenched his jaw. If anyone was angry, it was him. He had no idea how far Taichi had slipped into the obsessive grip of power. 

‘It’s alright, Tsunade,’ he said, taking a steading breath. ‘We can do this again sometime, for sure.’ 

‘Thank you,’ Tsunade said, relieved. ‘And thank you for the food. Best of luck on your mission.’ 

She scurried off without so much as a look at Orochimaru and Jiraiya, who were still reeling from shock and frustration. 

‘Tsk,’ Jiraiya mumbled. ‘That guy was a jerk.’

Orochimaru frowned after Tsunade, deep in thought. He hadn’t said anything while they all argued - for one thing, he was too shy - but he also didn’t know what to say. All he could figure out was that Jiraiya seemed to have a heart of gold, and Tsunade was scared of her own father.

‘Is...is that what a relationship with a father should be like?’ he asked, trying to remember what it was like being with his own father. 

Benjiro looked very troubled. ‘No. Not in the slightest.’


	7. Seeping into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru learns to cook, Jiraiya makes a new friend, and Danzo's mission reaches completion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a tricky one. Not much happens (next chapter it all really kicks off), but it's super nice to write something cute. Before it gets all depressing again. Sorry about that...  
> Plus, thanks to the help of a reader, I think the formatting is much nicer! Though as ever, if there are mistakes, let me know :)  
> Happy reading!

Chapter Seven: Seeping into Darkness

31 A.K (After Konoha)

Jiraiya was absolutely not afraid of the dark. If anyone had the audacity to suggest such a blatant lie, he would likely drop-kick them (or get Tsunade to, come to think of it) into the earth and deny it until the cows came home.

But the truth was, Jiraiya may have been just a tiny winy bit scared of the dark. Normally, it didn’t bother him. He kept a light on, and Benjiro was only in the next room, so it was no big deal. But Benjiro had been away on his mission for the past few days, and Jiraiya had barely gotten a wink of sleep out of pure dread. It wasn’t his fault. For all his bravado, he was still just a child, and children were wise to be afraid of things lurking in the shadows. But his sleep deprivation certainly wasn’t helping his lackluster Academy performance. 

‘What’s up with you?’ Tsunade asked. They had just finished for the day, and the three of them were going via the store to pick up a snack before training. It had been a long day, after all - Chiharu (for once) had worked them very hard, and all three were feeling in great need of a bite to eat. 

‘Nothin’,’ Jiraiya said, a little defensively. 

A sly smile crept onto Tsunade’s face. Without warning, she grabbed Jiraiya under her arm and started pinching his cheek.

‘Aw, is someone missing their Papa?’ she teased, as Jiraiya struggled from her iron grip.

‘I - no! No I am not! Get off me!’ Jiraiya hissed, going red in the face.

Tsunade was laughing, but let him go. Begrudgingly, Jiraiya massaged his cheek.

‘I’m not a baby, you know,’ he said sourly. 

‘Well you’re sure acting like one,’ Tsunade said. ‘Honestly, Jiraiya, you’ve been all weird and mopey ever since your dad left on the mission.’ 

Jiraiya pulled a face. ‘Jeez. I’m sorry that I can’t be as indifferent as you about my Pa taking off for months. You seem almost glad to be rid of your old man.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tsunade said, her voice oddly high.

‘Oro and I aren’t blind, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said evenly. ‘You didn’t exactly seem thrilled when he gate-crashed our dinner the other day, and you’ve been acting more care-free ever since he left.’

Before Tsunade could answer, Orochimaru paused, and tugged on her sleeve.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘There’s someone behind us.’

Too spooked to be impressed by Orochimaru’s ability to sense another’s presence, they turned to see a young woman several feet behind them. Tsunade’s expression shifted to one of relief.

‘Don’t worry, Oro. That’s just Biwako!’ Tsunade smiled, waving as the brown haired woman made her way over. 

‘Who?’ Jiraiya said. 

‘She’s Sarutobi’s girlfriend,’ Tsunade said, a coprophagous grin on her face. ‘And she’s a medical-nin. Works at the hospital - she actually helped deliver Nawaki, come to think of it!’

Jiraiya shared a similar smirk and waggled his eyebrows. ‘That Sarutobi, eh? Didn’t think the fuddy-duddy had it in him.’ 

‘Greetings, Princess Tsunade,’ Biwako beamed, when she reached them. ‘I’m sorry if I startled you - but you three sure took off quickly! What’s the hurry?’ 

‘We usually train after the Academy,’ Tsunade said, putting her hands behind her head. 

‘Goodness, working so soon after finishing the day? You Grandfather would be very proud!’ Biwako said, and Tsunade glowed. 

‘I actually came to find you to pass on a message,’ she continued. ‘Hiruzen sent a report to Lord Second about their status, and, as far as he’s aware, it’s all going rather swimmingly!’ 

‘Not surprising. My Pa’s on the team, after all,’ Jiraiya said, throwing his fist in the air.

Biwako, who didn’t recognise him, peered at him curiously. Then, her eyes widened, and let out a small gasp.

‘Goodness me! Don’t tell me you’re Junko’s boy?’ she said, quite startled.

Jiraiya, who hadn’t expected his mother’s name to come up so flippantly, faltered for a moment, before clearing his throat. 

‘Sure am!’ he said. ‘And my Pa Benjiro is out there helping Sarutobi and Co right now with his awesome Jutsu!’ 

Biwako smiled at him. ‘You’ve grown a lot, Jiraiya. I haven’t seen you since - why, probably not since dear Junko’s funeral, and you were but a little sprite back then!’ 

Jiraiya tried to smile back at her, but the mention of his mother’s funeral made it feel like he’d been doused in ice water. Biwako didn’t push the matter. 

‘And who might you be? I don’t think I’ve really seen you around the village, before,’ Biwako said gently, addressing Orochimaru. She had knelt down to his level, as if sensing his quivering nerves, and waiting patiently for him to reply. 

‘I - I’m Orochimaru,’ he said, his voice quiet. 

‘And you’re Princess Tsunade’s friend? How are you liking the Academy?’ Biwako asked.

‘I...think so,’ Orochimaru said, looking shyly at Tsunade. ‘And yes, I like it very much. Chiharu-sensei thinks I have some talent for being a Shinobi.’

‘Not as much as me though!’ Jiraiya winked, throwing his arm around Orochimaru’s narrow shoulders.

‘As if. Didn’t Sensei place you at the bottom of the class the other day?’ Tsunade said, and Jiraiya glared at her. 

Biwako grinned at the three of them. She had only just turned 23 - the same age as Hiruzen - but she felt a brief pang of pining for bygone childhood days spent in the sun. They had so much growing up left to do, but their childlike confidence (at least in Tsunade and Jiraiya’s case) was something that warmed Biwako’s heart. To be young and full of limitless ambition was a beautiful thing. 

‘Well, I shan’t keep you,’ she said, straightening up. ‘Look after each other and train hard, alright? And it goes without saying that if any of you wish to try your hand at medical ninjutsu, I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes!’

‘Nah. I don’t reckon I’d be any good at that sorta thing,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I mean, the plants Pa left me in charge of have already died, so I’d probably suck at looking after an actual person.’

‘Plus you need good chakra control, Jiraiya, and from your performance so far at the Academy, I’m not actually sure you _have_ chakra,’ Tsunade commented. 

‘Now now, Princess,’ Biwako said, ‘that’s no way to talk to your friends.’

‘Yeah, _Princess_ ,’ Jiraiya said, sticking out his tongue. 

‘I told you not to call me that,’ Tsunade hissed, grabbing the front of his shirt.

‘Yeah? Well I’ll stop calling you that when you stop acting like one, Princess,’ Jiraiya sneered.

Biwako stared at them as they started bickering like an old married couple, before her eyes fell on Orochimaru.

‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘are they always like this?’ 

Orochimaru sighed. ‘Yes. Mostly.’ 

Shaking her head, Biwako placed a hand on Orochimaru’s shoulder. ‘You’d best keep them to the mark, young Orochimaru.’ 

Orochimaru processes her words slowly. That was the second time someone had asked him to take care of the two idiots he had started to call his friends. First Benjiro, and now Biwako. He felt oddly humbled to have such a task bestowed on him. Learning to care for them in the way they needed might take some time, but he was determined to learn. 

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said, his voice soft.

Biwako smiled slightly. ‘Good. They’re lucky to have you, Orochimaru.’

*

‘You didn’t have to do this, you know,’ Jiraiya muttered, as Orochimaru carefully rolled out a futon for him. 

‘I know. But I thought it would be nice,’ Orochimaru said, not quite looking Jiraiya in the eye. In truth, Orochimaru had invited Jiraiya to stay the night because he was worried about it. It had been two weeks since Benjiro had left, and Jiraiya seemed to grow more and more despondent. He was so tired in class that even Tsunade went easy on him, citing sleep deprivation as an unfair disadvantage. It was curious, Orochimaru observed, that Tsunade seemed to bloom with the absence of her father, while Jiraiya seemed to wilt with the absence of his own. Orochimaru had been there for Tsunade when she needed a distraction after Hashirama’s death, and, with Benjiro and Biwako’s words ringing clearly in his mind, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to help Jiraiya if he could. 

‘So...you live here by yourself?’ Jiraiya asked, somewhat awkwardly. He had never been to Orochimaru’s little house before - his place was the designated hangout, since the Mansion was always swarming with people and Tsunade seemed keen to stay away if she could help it. 

‘Yes. It was my parent’s house. The Leaf Officials let me keep it after they died, even though I can’t afford it. I think it was their way of saying they were sorry for my loss,’ Orochimaru said, thumping a duvet against the wall to free it of dust. He hadn’t had anyone to stay since the day they died. 

‘That’s nice of them, I guess. Would be pretty harsh of them to kick you out,’ Jiraiya said, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘It’s not like there’s anywhere else for me to go,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Konoha is still building. They don’t have schemes in place for people like me.’

‘Well it sure is a good thing that you can look after yourself!’ Jiraiya said, overly cheerfully. He didn’t really know what else to say, so lightheartedness was the obvious solution. Plus, he wasn’t wrong - Orochimaru’s home was meticulously tidy and well organised. Everything had its place. But, there was something oddly jarring about it. The house and its scrupulous condition reeked of emptiness. There were no photos on the walls, no cushions on the sofa, only one chair at the dining room table. There were no ornaments, no keepsakes, no curios. Even the light seemed to leak a darker shade. If Jiraiya didn’t know any better, he would have thought the place had stood still for years. It was hard not to think about what it would be like with more people. With parents. He swallowed guiltily, suddenly realising how fortunate he was to still have one parent alive. Just another warm soul was enough to make a home feel alive. 

‘I try to. Although I don’t think I’m a very good cook,’ Orochimaru replied, nibbling his lower lip. ‘You know how Tsunade can’t hide a single thing she’s feeling?’

‘Yup,’ Jiraiya nodded.

‘Well,’ Orochimaru continued, ‘she always has this really funny look on her face whenever she eats my cooking. It kind of looks like she’s in pain, or something.’

Jiraiya bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing.

‘And so I sort of started wondering if I’m not good at cooking food,’ Orochimaru said, playing with the ends of her hair anxiously. ‘Which, come to think of it, is a bit of a worry, considering we’ll have to eat something for dinner tonight.’

‘We could always gate-crash Tsunade’s and get a bite to eat. Lady Uzumaki is the most amazing cook!’ Jiraiya exclaimed enthusiastically.

‘Is that what you’ve been doing since your father has been away?’ 

‘Now and again,’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘But I think it was starting to get on Tsunade’s nerves, so I took to sneaking through the window to hang out with Lady Uzumaki by myself. She is way nicer than her granddaughter, I’ll tell you that for free. And, she’s a Jinchuriki! How neat is that?!’

It was quite ‘neat’, as Jiraiya put it. Orochimaru had a fleeting memory about a bedtime story his mother told him surrounding the Tailed Beasts. 

_‘Long ago,’ she said, her voice soft for the late hour, ‘there was a great mass of power known as the Ten Tails. This beast was bigger than you could possibly imagine - bigger even than the whole of Konoha, and stronger than all its Shinobi together.’_

_‘But how could something so big and strong come to be, Mother?’_

_‘That, Orochimaru, is a mystery,’ she said, tapping his nose. ‘Most of the history about the Tailed Beasts is a bit of mystery. But, legends tells of a great man, the ancestor of all Shinobi, a God, if you like. And this man was -’_

_‘ - the Sage of Six Paths!’ Orochimaru said excitedly._

_‘Well done, Orochimaru. That’s right,’ his mother smiled. She was beautiful when she smiled. Her eyes, which shared the lilac markings Orochimaru had inherited, creasing jovially as she gazed at him. ‘Now, the Sage of Sixth Paths supposedly split the Ten Tails into nine parts - but, instead of acting as a single entity, each of these Beasts has a distinct personality and appearance. At least, that’s what I think to think.’_

_She chuckled at that. His mother liked to think of the world as an extraordinary place, so even beings as evidently destructive as the Tailed Beasts were reimagined as majestic, kindly creatures, full of their own ambitions and personalities. Of course, she was right. But the world didn’t know that just yet._

_‘Now, some of these brilliant Tailed Beasts were reared in by our very own Lord First, who then gave them as a token of peace to the other Villages,’ she continued, her hands weaving her tale like she was a puppet master._

_‘Did the Beasts want that, though?’_

_‘Who knows?’ she replied. ‘But it certainly helped with keeping things peaceful. Say, sweetheart, if you could have a Tailed Beast, what would you pick?’_

_Orochimaru hummed in thought. ‘I think...a big snake! Like the one Father can summon!’_

_‘A snake?’ she chuckled. ‘Why, that’s not very inventive!’_

_‘It is! I mean, I guess it would have to be the One Tail, but...wait. Where does the body end and the tail begin on a big snake? Is the whole thing a tail?’_

_She laughed again, and Orochimaru loved the sound. Gently, she ran a hand through his dark hair._

_‘Perhaps that is another mystery, my boy,’ she smiled._

‘Hey, Oro? Anyone home?’ Jiraiya said, waving his hand in front of his face. Orochimaru blinked several times in surprise. 

‘Yes. Sorry. I was just…’ Orochimaru trailed off, not knowing what to say. Launching into a long and complex explanation about why he had zoned out would probably have freaked Jiraiya out, since the boy appeared to have the emotional capacity of a grain of rice. 

‘How about we try and make some dinner?’ Jiraiya offered, helping the subject matter change. Orochimaru grabbed the opportunity like a drowning man latching to a piece of driftwood. 

‘Yes! But...well, like I said, I’m not much of a cook. Are we really going to head over to Tsunade’s?’

Jiraiya shook his head. ‘Nah. If she catches us, we’ll be dead, and I kinda value my life.’

‘Then what should we do?’ 

‘Well, I can teach you a few things!’ Jiraiya said, rolling up his sleeves. ‘My Pa can’t cook to save his life either, to be honest, so I’ve had to work a few things out now and again. I’m not half bad, if I do say so myself!’

The two boys took to navigating the kitchen together. They were making omurice, and Jiraiya had to take charge. 

‘No, you gotta let the ketchup sizzle in the pan a bit first,’ he said sternly, as Orochimaru dumped several spoons into the rice, chicken and vegetables they were frying. ‘It helps take away some of the acidity. And hey - don’t add so much! We don’t want it to be too sweet!’

Slightly terrified, Orochimaru abandoned the spoon. 

‘Did you remember to cool the rice before you added it to the pan?’ Jiraiya asked, tightening the strings of the apron he had borrowed. It had belonged to Orochimaru’s mother, and had a delicate frill around the edges. He looked endearingly ridiculous.

‘I - I think so?’ Orochimaru said weakly.

‘Well I hope you did! Else it’ll be all stoggy and weird!’ 

‘Right,’ Orochimaru nodded. He was learning quite a lot under Jiraiya’s tenure. 

It was getting warm in the kitchen with the rice frying away, so Jiraiya cracked open a window. A breeze filtered through the house, and the lovely smells of home cooking wafted into each room. It was a smell Orochimaru had almost forgotten. 

‘Have you made omelets before?’ Jiraiya asked, cracking four eggs into a bowl and whisking them with milk and a dash of soy sauce. 

Orochimaru nodded. ‘Once or twice. But they kind of tore and ended up being more like scrambled eggs, to be honest.’ 

‘Fine. I’ll handle it,’ Jiraiya said, nudging him out of the way. 

Carefully, he poured half the mixture into the pan, and it sizzled spectacularly on contact. He picked up the pan and coated the bottom, making sure it was even, before lowering the heat so it could cook through. 

‘Plate up the rice, and I’ll keep an eye on the omelets,’ Jiraiya said. 

Orochimaru did as he was told. He had never seen Jiraiya give instructions before - normally it was Tsunade who was their ring-leader, and both were too afraid of her to protest (not that Jiraiya would ever say that to her face). Using a rice shaper, Orochimaru managed to construct two domes of the colorful rice.

‘Out the way!’ Jiraiya called, a neatly folded omelet in the pan ready to sit on the rice. ‘You can have this one, Oro. When you split it down the middle it should cover the rice in eggy goodness!’

‘Oh, but don’t you want it? You are the guest, after all,’ Orochimaru said, as Jiraiya handed him the steaming plate. 

‘Nah. Can’t really trust you to make the second omelet,’ Jiraiya winked. 

‘That - that’s true,’ Orochimaru said, hanging his head in defeat. 

When Jiraiya was finished, the two boys tucked in. It was quite delicious (Orochimaru had to contain his amazement). The vegetables were sweet, the chicken was succulent, and the omelet was light and fluffy. Orochimaru rather felt like he could eat another one straight after, it was so nice. 

The breeze and evening light flooded through the open kitchen window, and spread through the house like watercolour pigment furring up wet paper. The house seemed warmed, all of sudden, the smells of food and the soft orange light flooding over the shadows. It was like someone had lit a gentle fire to flicker in a hearth. 

‘Phew,’ Jiraiya said, rubbing his stomach. ‘I’m stuffed. Got any sweets?’ 

‘I thought you just said you were stuffed?’ Orochimaru replied. 

‘Never too full for dessert, Oro. That’s my Ninja Way,’ Jiraiya grinned. 

Hoping it _wasn’t_ in fact Jiraiya’s Ninja Way, Orochimaru shuffled about the kitchen in search of something sweet. He found a couple of anpans filled with sweet red bean paste, but they were slightly hard. He had bought them the other day when they stopped off at the local bakery, and his eyes had been bigger than his stomach. 

Luckily, Jiraiya didn’t seem to mind that they were a bit stale, and ate them with gusto.

‘Hmmm, that hit the spot!’ he said happily, smacking his lips. ‘Thanks!’ 

Orochimaru was still half-way through his anpan, but smiled back at Jiraiya through a mouthful of the sweet bread. 

‘But you really ought to learn how to cook, you know,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I don’t mind teaching you a thing or two while Pa is away, but you gotta get a cookbook, or something. Lady Uzumaki probably has loads.’ 

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Orochimaru said. ‘My mother did most of the cooking, back then, and I never really thought to shadow her in the kitchen. I guess I just never thought that she’d…’

Orochimaru trailed off, silently cursing himself for making the mood sombre. To his great surprise, Jiraiya didn’t seem put off.

‘I know what you mean,’ he said quietly. ‘My Ma used to do all the cooking too, but she died before I could even eat solid food. Makes me wonder why Pa didn’t take up the cooking mantle, but I guess it makes him too sad. Cooking was her thing, you know?’ 

‘You’ve clearly picked up her skills, then,’ Orochimaru smiled.

‘You think?’ 

‘For sure. I bet she would be really impressed by this,’ Orochimaru said, gesturing to the empty plates. 

Jiraiya beamed. ‘Man, I sure hope so. I always wonder what she would have made of me, you know? Like, she must have had ideas about the kind of kid I’d be when she was pregnant. I...I wonder if I met her expectations?’ 

Orochimaru studied Jiraiya’s face. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he looked oddly vulnerable, like he’d just revealed a very secret part of his heart to him. Orochimaru sighed. Now was the part for him to be a good friend. 

‘I think you’ve gone above and beyond anything your mother could have expected, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Sure, you’re not...you know, you’re not the best Shinobi out there, but -’

‘ - gee, thanks,’ Jiraiya said sarcastically.

‘ - but there are much more important things than that,’ Orochimaru said hastily. ‘You’re a great friend and a good son. I saw the way you stood up for your father and it touched my heart. Not to mention that we both know you’d crawl over broken glass for Tsunade, as much as you two argue. I think your mother would be immeasurably proud of you.’

Jiraiya, to Orochimaru’s slight horror, rubbed his eyes. ‘Hey, thanks, Oro. But it’s not just Tsunade, you know - I’d do the same for you in a heartbeat.’ 

Orochimaru’s eyes widened. ‘You would? You mean it?’ 

Rather bashfully, Jiraiya rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Well, yeah. You’re my friend now, Orochimaru. And come hell or high water, nothing will ever change that.’

Jiraiya stayed at Orochimaru’s one night on, one night off, to help him get some proper sleep. Orochimaru liked the company. Plus, he got to learn how to cook, and make such an improvement that even Tsunade asked for seconds when they shared their lunch. 

‘This is like, actually delicious!’ Tsunade gasped, biting into an onigiri. 

‘Thank you,’ Orochimaru beamed, exchanging a knowing look with Jiraiya. 

‘Oh, by the way, Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said, ‘Uncle Tobirama said my father is due back any day now, so it won’t be long till Benjiro is back, too. You better make sure your house is tidy!’ 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Jiraiya said, batting her comment away as if he was swatting a fly. He neglected to tell her that the house was no better than a pigsty at that current moment. He’d also have to replace all the houseplants he’d inadvertently killed. All in a day’s work. 

‘That will be nice. But I’ll miss having you around of an evening, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said thoughtfully.

Tsunade nearly choked on her food. 

‘ _What_?’ she squawked. ‘You two have been having sleepovers without inviting me?’ 

‘You’re a girl, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ Jiraiya sneered.

‘So?’ Tsunade replied. 

‘So, we can’t have you sleeping over with us,’ Jiraiya said. ‘It wouldn’t be right.’ (It’s funny to think how times would change Jiraiya’s opinion).

Despondent, Tsunade put her chin in her hand, and sighed. 

‘Well now I feel like I’ve missed out,’ she mumbled. 

‘You could always try and make some girl friends, if you feel that bad about it,’ Jiraiya said.

Tsunade glanced over her shoulder out the window to wear Yue, Yui and Akari were sat giggling, watching the twins’ puppies fight over a stick. 

‘They don’t like me,’ she said. ‘I don’t think anyone likes me except you guys.’

‘Bit of an overstatement - ouch!’ Jiraiya said, as Orochimaru jabbed him in the ribs. The two of them had become much closer over the few weeks Benjiro had been away, and Orochimaru felt more comfortable around him. 

‘What he meant to say was that it’s not true, only us liking you,’ Orochimaru said. ‘They’re probably just intimidated by you. I mean, you _are_ a Senju, Lord First’s granddaughter and Lord Second’s great-niece, _and_ you’re easily one of the strongest in our class. They might not know how to act around you.’ 

‘That’s why I like hanging out with you guys,’ Tsunade said. ‘You don’t treat me any differently, at least not now.’

‘So if we want to get rid of you, all we have to do is start treating you like a royal ass?’ Jiraiya grinned. 

Orochimaru thumped him over the head for his troubles.

*

‘Welcome home, Pa!’ Jiraiya said, as Benjiro stumbled through the front door the next day. ‘How was your - hey, are you alright?’ 

Jiraiya lunged forward as Benjiro crumpled, a pained expression on his face. He was covered in dirt, his flak jacket torn in places, and his headband was speckled in something that looked horribly like blood. 

‘Jiraiya,’ Benjiro said, his voice strained. 

‘What’s the matter? Do you need a hospital? I made friends with Lady Uzumaki while you were away, so I bet we can -’ 

‘ - no, no, I’m fine,’ Benjiro said, steadying himself. ‘I just...it’s been a long mission.’ 

‘What the hell happened?’ Jiraiya asked, as he eased Benjiro over to the sofa. 

Benjiro just shook his head, his eyes glassy. 

‘Do...do you want something to eat? Or drink?’ Jiraiya asked tentatively, rather feeling like he’d just let a wounded wild animal into the house. He’d never seen his father like this. Usually, when he got back from a mission, Benjiro was as upbeat and enthusiastic as the day he set off. He loved being a Shinobi. It was the first time he looked like he regretted his career choice. 

Suddenly, and to Jiraiya’s alarm, Benjiro pulled him into a hug. His shoulders quivering, he realised his father was crying.

‘You’re so young,’ he whispered. ‘You’re so, so young.’ 

Tsunade was experiencing similar alarm when Taichi walked through the door. He was so caked in blood that it had concentrated into the grooves of his scarred face, making it look like he had ruddy-red veins cobwebbing over his skin. 

‘Darling?’ Komako gasped, looking up from where she was dangling a small teddy-bear above Nawaki’s chubby little face. 

‘I...I’m home,’ he managed, his voice thick. 

Komako shot up from where she crouched over Nawaki’s cot, and ran over to him, placing her hand on his chest as his knees buckled. 

‘Tsunade, get a chair,’ Komako ordered. 

Tsunade, who had been frozen in horror, quickly snapped into action. If there was one thing she was good at, it was reacting well in a crisis. 

‘Whatever happened?’ Komako said, her voice soft and soothing as she sponged away some of the blood on his face. 

‘I...I must speak with Lord Hokage,’ Taichi said, ignoring her.

‘No, you must not. You should rest and clean yourself up,’ Komako said sternly. 

‘You don’t understand…’ Taichi trailed off, slumping in his seat. Under the blood, he had turned a worrying greyish colour, his eyelids lulling. 

‘Tsuna, go and fetch your Grandmother and Uncle right now, okay?’ Komako said. 

‘But...what’s happened? Why is he covered in blood?’ Tsunade whispered, quite transfixed. 

‘Now, Tsuna!’ Komako shouted. 

Jumping, Tsunade raced up the stairs to Tobirama’s office, not bothering to knock and she barged through the door. 

‘Uncle Tobirama,’ she panted, ‘father just came back and he -’

Tsunade stopped dead in her tracks. Hiruzen and Danzo were standing in front of Tobirama’s desk, both bloody and pale. Danzo was supporting Hiruzen, who was struggling to stay upright, and both of them had the same grim expression.

‘Tsunade!’ Tobirama boomed. ‘You must not barge in without first announcing your presence!’

‘I...I’m sorry!’ Tsunade said, shaking. She had forgotten just how imposing and powerful Tobirama could be when he shouted, and she wasn’t keen on being on the receiving end of it. ‘It’s just mother asked me to come and get you and Grandmother. Father is back and he’s in bad shape.’

‘Is he at death’s door?’ Tobirama asked coldly. 

‘I - I don’t think so,’ Tsunade replied. 

‘No, none of us got gravely injured. Apart from…’ Hiruzen trailed off, swallowing thickly.

‘Then he can wait. I have much more pressing matters to attend to right now,’ Tobirama said. 

‘But he -’

‘ - quiet, Tsuna!’ he barked, and Tsunade jumped out of her skin. Tobirama had started to pace, anxiousness etched on his features. Limping slightly, Hiruzen eased his way over to where Tsunade was standing. 

‘Hey, Princess Tsunade,’ he said softly, smiling through two black eyes, ‘I think it would be best if you set off back to your mother. There are some...things we need to discuss. And they’re not for delicate ears.’

‘I’m not delicate,’ Tsunade said.

‘I know. That’s not what I meant,’ Hiruzen said ‘I merely meant that we must discuss some matters that are not privy for just anyone. You understand that, right?’ 

‘I - I think so,’ Tsunade said. 

‘Good,’ Hiruzen said, patting her shoulder with his bloodied hand. ‘Now go and look after your Father, okay? He’s going to need it.’ 

Tsunade nodded, and with a fleeting glance at her disquieted Uncle, retraced her steps out of the door. Hiruzen sighed heavily, and straightened up with a groan. 

‘Thank you, Hiruzen,’ Tobirama said heavily. ‘I shall have to apologise for my tone later on.’

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you,’ Danzo said dryly. ‘After all, you’ve had a great shock.’

‘Indeed…’ Tobirama said. ‘Murdering Kairi Hyuga during your surrender is an act of war.’


	8. True Colours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is on the horizon, Tobirama and Taichi visit the Academy, and Orochimaru is pushed over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for mild violence I guess??  
> Also been thinking of making a Tumblr account (yet another one lol) to keep people who are interested updated on this fic. I can imagine my lack of schedule is a bit annoying for eager readers - what do you reckon?  
> ALSO this fic will be in four parts - 'The Genin Saga', 'The Jonin Promotion', The Second Great Ninja War', and 'The Aftermath'. The Genin Saga is made up of 12 chapters (that I've planned), so we'll be moving on from the babie Sannin in due course.

Chapter Eight: True Colours

Date: 31 A.K. (After Konoha)

‘Is it really true?’ Orochimaru whispered. The three of them were sitting waiting for Chiharu to start the class, and had taken to muttering to one another about the recent affairs. 

‘There hasn’t been an official declaration of war or anything, but Father and Uncle Tobirama think it’s just a matter of time,’ Tsunade whispered back. Really, she shouldn’t have been talking about it at all, but she couldn’t help what she overheard Taichi and Tobirama discussing the other night. 

‘Not surprising. Pa said that Kaira Hyuga was killed on their mission,’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Yeah, while they were giving themselves up,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘I mean, if that’s not an act of war, I don’t know what is.’ 

‘Why were they surrendering?’ Orochimaru asked. 

‘To avoid any bloodshed,’ Tsunade replied. ‘As far as I can make out, their team was meant to give themselves up if they were caught to avoid fighting. Guess that plan went down like a lead balloon, though.’ 

‘And another thing,’ Jiraiya said, shiftily glancing over his shoulder, ‘I’m pretty sure that Kaira was Fumihiro’s mother. He’s been acting all weird ever since they came back, right?’ 

‘Hm,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘I think she was.’ 

Orochimaru felt his stomach drop. It did explain why Fumihiro’s eyes seemed more swollen nowadays, and why he seemed so distracted in class. If Orochimaru wasn’t so apprehensive, he probably would have offered his condolences. After all, he knew what it felt like to lose a parent. 

‘Listen up!’ Chiharu said, clapping her hands as she walked into the classroom. ‘We have a full day ahead of us, so you’d best look alive. There’s a chance Lord Second might drop in, too, so you need to make a good impression. If you’re all snivelling weaklings, it’ll reflect badly on me. Although…’ Chiharu trailed off, wondering how terrible a sensei she’d have to be to get fired. She didn’t want the job in the first place, so maybe getting sacked was a good way to go. Unfortunately, her particular bunch were irritatingly talented, with the exception of Jiraiya and Akari. 

‘The Hokage is paying a visit? Seriously?’ Jiraiya murmured.

Tsunade shrugged. ‘He didn’t mention anything to me.’ 

‘Oi. Be quiet, you two,’ Chiharu said sternly. ‘As I was saying, if Lord Hokage does grace us with his presence,’ - there was some sarcasm in her tone - ‘it won’t be until after lunch. Do you remember what we’re doing this afternoon?’ 

‘Shuriken practise, right?’ Isao piped up.

‘Yes. So make sure you’ve got sharp eyes on you, alright? Don’t wanna show yourselves up in front of Lord Second,’ Chiharu said. 

‘Not a chance!’ Jiraiya said, slapping his fist against his palm. ‘I never miss my targets!’

‘Apart from the 14 targets you missed the other day?’ Tsunade said.

‘Shut up, Princess. We can’t all be perfect,’ Jiraiya huffed, as the class snickered.

‘Aw, you think I’m perfect? Thanks, Jiraiya!’ Tsunade beamed, but it was as false as the peace treaty between the Shinobi Villages.

‘Pipe down, you two. If I have to ask again, I’ll make you do laps around the village, you got it?’ Chiharu said. 

Jiraiya and Tsunade nodded vigorously. If there was one thing they’d learnt from their time at the Academy, it was that Chiharu kept her word. 

The day progressed as most days at the Academy did - Orochimaru and Tsunade competed for the top spot; Fumihiro and Hiromichi begrudgingly accepted that they wouldn’t be at the top of the class; Kenzou was caught having a nap; Yua and Yui fawned over their puppies; Isao was scolded for eating in class and Riku chastised him alongside Chiharu; Daichi said virtually nothing; Akari seemed vacant; and Jiraiya was loud and annoying. But the normality was something Chiharu found comforting. She wasn’t stupid - she knew something was amiss, but the Hokage had yet to make any firm announcements. The fact that he was bothering to oversee her class was evidence enough that something was wrong; was he sussing out the power level of the new generation in the hopes of planning for battle? He never came to the Academy unless for a reason. He certainly wasn’t like his late brother in that respect - Hashirama used to visit the Academy so frequently out of pure enthusiasm that even the kids started to get fed up with him.

‘Good job, Orochimaru,’ Chiharu said lazily, as the boy successfully demonstrated the formation for performing the shadow shuriken technique. She had a feeling Orochimaru could do it for real, he was so talented, but she didn’t want to make the other kids feel bad. He really was a once in a generation genius, out classing even Tsunade. It surprised Chiharu a great deal. She made a mental note to try and search up about his Clan, or at least his parents. 

‘Show off,’ Jiraiya smirked, as Orochimaru sat back down. 

‘You could do it too if you paid attention instead of - wait, have you been doodling pictures of Tsunade in your workbook?’ Orochimaru snorted, spotting the badly drawn pictures. Some of them had love hearts around them.

‘No! They’re - it’s not - you shouldn’t be looking at my things!’ Jiraiya stuttered, going bright red. 

Luckily, Tsunade didn’t notice. She was too busy staring in shock as Taichi and Tobirama darkened the doorway of the classroom. Her Great Uncle she had been expecting, but her father? No one had mentioned that. 

‘Lord Second! Welcome!’ Chiharu said, straightening up from where she had been slumped at her desk. As much as she disliked being an Academy sensei, she didn’t _actually_ want to get sacked. It would bring shame on the Nara name, and there was no way she’d be responsible for that. 

‘Greetings, Chiharu,’ Tobirama said. ‘I trust you received notice of my visit?’ 

‘Yes, Lord Hokage. Although I wasn’t expecting…’ she trailed off, looking at Taichi and wondering how to address him. She always addressed Komako as ‘Lady Senju’, but Taichi had only married into the Clan and therefore didn’t really elicit the same level of respect. She didn’t like the man, at any rate. He led with his fists rather than his head, and while a powerful Jonin in his own right, many of the missions he assisted on ended in failure. Chiharu couldn’t help but think that, without his ties to the Senju, he would have received multiple disciplinaries. 

‘Taichi wanted to oversee the new recruits with his own eyes,’ Tobirama said. ‘Will that be an issue?’ 

‘Not at all,’ Chiharu said, bowing her head. Taichi was part of Konoha’s core, a keystone in decision-making along with Komako herself. There was no way Chiharu could refuse him, even if his heavily scarred face made her feel slightly on edge. She wondered, briefly, what horrors he must have witnessed to become so injured. 

She led the class outside to where the targets were pinned to several logs. Chiharu had spent yesterday evening setting up newer and more challenging targets for the sake of Tobirama’s visit, but she was starting to regret it - Fumihiro was hardly up to his usual standard, under the circumstances, Hiromichi seemed put off by Tobirama’s presence (for obvious Uchiha-related issues), and for whatever reason, Tsunade had gone an unfortunate green colour, as if from nerves. _To conclude_ , Chiharu thought bitterly, _my best students are out of it. Guess I better rely on little Orochimaru_.

‘Okay, guys,’ she said, clapping her hands together. ‘You know the drill. Form a line and try to hit the targets as quickly and accurately as possible. The shuriken are in those storage containers.’ 

As the students scurried off to fill their pockets, Taichi turned to Chiharu.

‘Chiharu-sensei,’ he said, ‘thank you for letting me observe. I must ask before we start, though - how is my daughter getting along? She does not speak often of her days here.’

‘She’s brilliant,’ Chiharu said earnestly. ‘A little rough around the edges, sure, but she had a natural born ability to control and refine her chakra, and she seems to have buckets of it. Any other year and she’d be the class prodigy.’ 

‘What do you mean, any other year?’ 

‘Well, you see that dark-haired kid next to her? The one with the purple markings around his eyes?’ Chiharu said, nodding to where the trio were scrambling for the ninja tools. ‘He is, quite frankly, a genius. Honestly, I’ve never seen such raw talent before. He’ll be a fantastic asset to the village.’

‘Really? What family is he from?’ Taichi asked. Chiharu noticed there was a slight edge to his voice, but didn’t let it bother her. 

‘Actually, he’s…’ Chiharu leaned in and whispered ‘the Fires of Takigakure’ in his ear. A peculiar expression passed over Taichi’s face, and he nodded stiffly. 

As usual, Jiraiya had barged his way to the front of the queue, brandishing shuriken between his fingers and wearing a cocky grin. Chiharu groaned internally. If there was one bad way to start an observed demonstration, it was with Jiraiya. 

‘Here I go!’ he called, to no one in particular. Shuriken went whistling through the air in seemingly random directions, and Jiraiya gritted his teeth in concentration. Even if he was a second-rate ninja, he had a lot of spirit. 

Unfortunately, he missed all the targets but one. Normally, Tsunade would have made a snide remark to get some laughs from the class, but she didn’t say anything. The class still laughed anyway.

‘Yeah?’ Jiraiya huffed, folding his arms. ‘I’d like to see any of you do better!’

They did, in fact, do better. Poor Jiraiya was right before Hiromichi, who managed to hit most of the targets, bar the few in the blind spots. Though, when his sharingan awakened, that wouldn’t be a problem. He seemed irked by his performance, and fired a particularly seedy glare at Tobirama. 

Next was Isao. He was skilled, as most of his Clan, and managed to pull off an even better performance than Hiromichi. Riku did fairly well, but Kenzou’s effort was so half-hearted he may as well not have bothered. Interestingly, Daichi had pin-point precision and got the highest score yet. Chiharu wondered if working with insects enhanced his ability to be accurate, or something, since he performed at such a minute level. It was an interesting theory for her to develop, if she had the time. She had always been fascinated by the Aburame clan, even if they were sometimes overlooked. 

Orochimaru followed after and hit all of the targets right in the centre.

‘Nice one, Oro!’ Jiraiya grinned, high fiving him. Despite his own failings, Jiraiya couldn’t help but be happy for his friend.

‘Good grief,’ Tobirama muttered. ‘How old is that child?’

‘He’s 6. Same age as Jiraiya, Princess Tsunade, Akari, and Fumihiro. The others are slightly older, giver or take a few years,’ Chiharu said. 

‘Hm,’ Tobirama nodded. ‘He’s clearly very talented. Even I may not have been able to pull off such a feat when I was his age.’ At the same time, Tobirama felt a pang for Fumihiro. Losing Kairi had been a blow to the Shinobi force of Konoha, it was true, but he had to remind himself that she had left behind a young son. He sighed to himself. 

‘Princess Tsunade?’ Chiharu said, gesturing forward. ‘You’re next.’ 

Tsunade nodded. Chiharu frowned at her. Where was the boisterous ball of energy she was used to? It was like Tsunade had completely retracted into a shell. Was she that nervous about Tobirama being there?

Of course, the reason Tsunade was so on edge was because of Taichi. She knew if she didn’t hit all the targets, especially after Orochimaru had, she would be in trouble. He had become a man possessed of late, so much so he was even encouraging Komako to train more often. Naturally, she was quite caught up with Nawaki and overseeing the new Genin, but Taichi mentioned it every single night. Tsunade liked to think it was because he was concerned for their well-being, but a big part of her felt like it was because he was so caught up in the family’s reputation. Insecurity and anxiety had spawned obsession, and it was having a negative impact.

‘C’mon, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said, nudging her. ‘Everyone is waiting. You know you’ll hit all of them like always.’

Taking a deep breath and stealing a look at her father, Tsunade stepped up and did her best. She got all but one, which, to be fair, was at a tricky angle. Chiharu didn’t think any of them would get it, but as usual, Orochimaru had surprised her. 

‘You missed one, Tsuna,’ Taichi said. Chiharu didn’t like his tone of voice. 

‘I...I’m sorry,’ Tsunade mumbled dejectedly, walking back to where Jiraiya and Orochimaru were standing. She tended to gravitate towards them when she started to feel uncomfortable (not that she’d ever admit it to Jiraiya).

‘Sorry isn’t going to improve your performance,’ Taichi said. ‘We’ll be running double drills after the Academy, you hear? Don’t be late.’

‘I…’ Tsunade trailed off. She had made plans with Jiraiya and Orochimaru to check out the new bakery that had opened in the village. Since staying at Orochimaru’s, Jiraiya had apparently developed a taste for anpan, and wanted to see what the new place had to offer. Tsunade had never been a fan of overly sweet things, but she wasn’t going to miss it. Or at least, she didn’t want to miss it. 

‘Well?’ Taichi snapped, so loudly that the other kids flinched in surprise. 

‘Nothing, Father. I’ll be there,’ Tsunade said quietly. 

Jiraiya, who was gunning to protest, didn’t get a moment to because of Fumihiro. He was up next, but instead of throwing the shuriken at the targets in front of him, they veered off sharply, and went cascading straight towards Tobirama. 

‘Lord Second!’ Chiharu shouted, but Tobirama dodged them with such ease he didn’t even blink. He looked momentarily surprised at the attack, and blinked curiously at Fumihiro. 

The Hyuga heir was breathing heavily, his white eyes set on Tobirama 

‘What - what the hell was that?’ Jiraiya said, stuttering in shock.

Fumihiro gritted his teeth. ‘I missed.’

Chiharu glared at the boy. ‘What do you mean, ‘you missed’? You could have taken Lord Second’s head off!’

‘Not at that trajectory,’ Tobirama said casually, shifting in his armour. 

‘Lord Second, I am so sorry,’ Chiharu said, grabbing Fumihiro and dragging him forward. ‘Normally he has much better aim, I can assure you.’

Roughly, she put her hand on the back of Fumihiro’s head and forced him to bow.

‘Apologise to the Hokage,’ she hissed, bowing too.

Fumihiro mumbled something inaudibly under his breath. 

‘What was that?’ Chiharu snapped. She could be quite strict when the situation presented itself. 

‘I said I’m sorry,’ Fumihiro spat. 

Tobirama cocked his head to one side. ‘Indeed. If I didn’t know any better, Hyuga, I’d say you were purposefully aiming at me. That couldn’t possibly be that case, now could it?’

Fumihiro’s slight frame seemed to shrink. He shook his head.

‘I hope not. Attacking your Hokage is an act of utmost treachery, as I’m sure you’re aware,’ Tobirama said. 

‘Come now, Lord Second,’ Taichi said, in a surprising show of sympathy. ‘There’s no chance the boy would even attempt such a thing.’

‘For sure,’ Chiharu said, sweating slightly. ‘The Hyuga are loyal to Konoha and the Hokage. Right, Fumihiro?’

‘He better say so, else I reckon the Hokage might kill him,’ Jiraiya whispered. 

‘So loyal that we’re prepared to die for you, apparently,’ Fumihiro snarled.

There was an over-dramatic gasp from the class. No one ever spoke to Tobirama like that, apart from perhaps Mito. Even Tsunade couldn’t get away with it, and he doted on her. 

‘He’s dead,’ Kenzou gulped. 

‘I’ll say,’ Isao nodded. 

To everyone’s great surprise, Tobirama merely sighed, his broad shoulders sinking like a deflating balloon. He turned his back to Fumihiro. 

‘Let’s go, Taichi. I’ve seen enough,’ he said. 

‘Lord Hokage, I implore you, Fumihiro didn’t mean -’ Chiharu began, but Tobirama held up a hand.

‘Silence yourself, Chiharu. I wish to leave. I would rather not be despised by my own subjects on a pleasant afternoon,’ he said dryly. 

Chiharu looked like she wanted to say something else, but decided against it, and bowed her head. 

‘Tsuna,’ Taichi said, before he followed Tobirama from the training ground, ‘if you miss again, I won’t be so forgiving. Understand?’ 

‘That was _forgiving_?’ Jiraiya hissed to Orochimaru. ‘He practically scared the life out of her with a few words!’ 

‘I understand, Father,’ Tsunade said, not quite looking him in the eye.

With that, Taichi turned on his heels and followed Tobirama like a dutiful puppy away from the training field. They could be heard mumbling under their breath as they departed, but no one could quite make out what they were saying. 

The students felt a cold aura befall them. Chiharu was furious. 

‘What in Sage of Sixth Paths’ name was _that_ ?’ she exploded, gesturing to all of them. ‘Jiraiya, you showed yourself up in front of two of the most powerful men in Konoha! And Kenzou, your attempt was so useless you might as well have taken the day off! Don’t even get me started on you, Princess Tsunade! Since when do you _miss_?’ 

‘Hey, c’mon!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘At least we didn’t try and assassinate the Hokage!’ 

Chiharu’s expression darkened as her eyes fell on Fumihiro.

‘Oh, I am well aware of who disgraced himself the most, today,’ she growled. ‘Seriously, Fumihiro? In what way is throwing shuriken at the damn Hokage going to improve anything?!’

‘I just missed,’ Fumihiro muttered. 

‘Missed what, hm? The Hokage’s skull? Or his eyes, even? It certainly wasn’t the targets since you didn’t even try to aim at them!’ Chiharu shouted. 

The kids were in a state of shock. Chiharu was known for being cool and collected. It was the first time she’d genuinely lost her rag with them. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to calm down. 

‘Right, you little blisters,’ she said. ‘Here’s what’s gonna happen. Those who didn’t have their turn, do it now. Those who hit less than 70% of the targets - I’m looking at you, Fumihiro and Jiraiya - you’ll run double drills tomorrow after school. And Tsunade? I want a word in private. The rest of you, indoors. I expect you all to have memorised the shadow shuriken formation before the end of the day, got it?’

There was a wave of disgruntled mumbling from the class.

‘Fine. In that case, you’re all going to write an apology letter to the Hokage for the behaviour of your peers. Would you prefer that?’ she snarled.

‘We’ll - we’ll do the shadow shuriken practise,’ Kenzou said nervously.

‘Good. I’ll be testing you tomorrow morning. Now get inside,’ Chiharu snapped.

The majority of the students scurried off with their heads bowed, muttering to each other in displeasure. 

‘Old bag,’ Jiraiya whispered. ‘Seriously, who does she think she is? It’s not our fault Fumihiro went off on one.’

Privately, Orochimaru agreed. He found it quite unfair he was being penalised too, considering he had actually hit all of the targets. 

As the kids who didn’t get a turn quietly went about aiming at the targets, Chiharu took Tsunade by the arm and pulled her to one side. She knelt down to her level and looked at her sternly. 

‘Y-yes, sensei?’ Tsunade asked, feeling a little nervous. Sure, she didn’t every single target, but did that really call for such a withering glare?

‘What was that about, Princess Tsunade?’ Chiharu said, her voice soft. 

‘Huh?’ 

‘The target you missed. Normally that drill would have been a snooze for you and young Orochimaru. What happened?’ Chiharu asked. 

‘I...nothing. I just missed it, that’s all. We all have off days, right?’ Tsunade replied.

‘Well, that’s true enough. But you seemed as right as rain until Lord Hokage turned up. Was it stage fright, or something?’ 

‘Nah. He’s my Uncle. He’s harmless!’ Tsunade said light-heartedly. 

There were many words Chiharu would use to describe Tobirama, and ‘harmless’ was not one of them. 

‘Then what was the matter? No offence intended, Princess, Tsunade, but normally you don’t shut up. You’re almost as bad as Jiraiya,’ Chiharu sighed. 

‘Please, I’m not that bad,’ Tsunade pouted. 

‘Well, perhaps not, but seriously - it was like I was overseeing a totally different student back there. Is there anything you want to tell me?’ Chiharu said. 

Tsunade considered her words. Telling Chiharu that her father was a crazed training maniac would have been inappropriate, given his position. Plus it wasn’t _that_ bad. Or so she told herself. 

‘No. It’s fine, honestly, Chiharu-sensei. I just missed,’ Tsunade said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Chiharu pressed her lips together. ‘Yes. I’ve been hearing that a lot today.’

*

‘What a day,’ Jiraiya groaned, stretching his arms behind his head.

‘Agreed,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘I certainly didn’t expect Fumihiro to be so…’

‘So crazy? Yeah, me neither,’ Tsunade said. 

The three of them headed out of the Academy building and strolled across the training ground, heading to the new bakery. 

‘Still, I can understand his feelings,’ Orochimaru said. ‘It is very difficult to lose a parent in such horrible circumstances.’

‘Yeah, but it’s not Uncle’s fault,’ Tsunade said. 

‘I didn’t say that,’ Orochimaru said evenly. ‘I just meant that when people lose loved ones, they can be irrational. Think of it like a kettle boiling over - you get so stuffed with all sorts of emotions, that sometimes, you just tip over the edge.’ 

‘He’s lucky he didn’t do any damage,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Then he really would be in trouble.’

‘Huh. It’s not like he’d be able to land a hit anyway,’ Tsunade muttered. 

‘What was that, Princess?’ a voice came from behind them.

The trio turned and saw Fumihiro glowering at them, his jaw clenched. He had just been thoroughly reprimanded by Chiharu for his behaviour, and was in no mood for being the topic of someone’s gossip.

‘I said you’d never be able to land a hit on Uncle Tobirama even if you wanted to,’ Tsunade shrugged. ‘I mean, what did you expect? He’s the Hokage, not some lackey.’

‘Gimme a few years and I’ll be just as good as him,’ Fumihiro said haughtily.

Tsunade snorted. ‘In your dreams, Fumihiro. What you did today shows how stupid and immature you are. You’ll never reach his level.’ 

‘Bit harsh, Tsu,’ Jiraiya hissed.

‘No it isn’t,’ Tsunade said, her temper rising. ‘He tried to attack a member of my family. I’ve every right to be angry at him for it.’ 

‘What, and you don’t think I have the right to be angry at the Hokage?’ Fumihiro snapped. ‘My mother was working on his orders! If he hadn't been so foolish, she might still be alive!’

Orochimaru winced. Fumihiro’s words were far too close for comfort.

‘Look, I’m sorry that happened,’ Tsunade said. ‘Really, I am. But Uncle Tobirama couldn’t have predicted something like that happening - it was a mission. No one can ever foresee what happens on a mission.’ 

‘You would say that,’ Fumihiro snarled. ‘You’re not the one who lost someone!’ 

‘My Father was on that mission too, you know, and I’d say the same thing even if he’d been the one who died. That’s what being a Ninja is, Fumihiro. You make sacrifices,’ Tsunade replied. 

‘Don’t give me that crap,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone dear. You sit up there in that Mansion with your perfect little family, looking down on everyone else like we’re nothing but cannon fodder for your precious Hokage! You could never understand what it feels like to have someone you love ripped away from you!’ 

‘Fumihiro, calm down,’ Jiraiya said, taking a step forward. ‘I get you’re upset, but -’

‘ - you’re defending her?!’ Fumihiro shouted. ‘You, of all people! She treats you like dirt on the bottom of her shoe!’

Jiraiya shook his head. ‘She used to, sure. But not now. And there’s no point in lashing out at her for your loss. It won’t help, believe me.’ 

‘Oh, he can lash out all he wants,’ Tsunade said, pushing past Jiraiya. ‘It won’t make a blind bit of difference and it certainly won’t bring his mother back.’ 

‘What the hell did you just say?’ Fumihiro cried.

‘I said nothing you can say or do to me will bring her back,’ Tsunade snapped. ‘And loss? You think I’ve never felt loss? My grandfather died barely half a year ago.’

‘Oh, cry me a river,’ Fumihiro shot back. ‘That’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling.’

‘Either way, I didn’t go around accusing all and sundry for his death!’ Tsunade said. ‘You have no right to centre the blame on anyone. What happened was a tragedy, no one is denying that, but you’re doing nothing but wasting your energy on having a go at me and my Uncle.’

‘This is not a waste of energy, believe me!’ Fumihiro shouted. Suddenly, veins sprung to life around his eyes and his irses became more defined. The Byakugan, while present since birth, takes some time to master, and none of the trio were aware Fumihiro had any control over it. 

‘You and your family have been worshipped for too long, Tsunade,’ Fumihiro growled. ‘It’s about time someone did something about you to stop all the unnecessary bloodshed!’

‘Tsunade, move!’ Jiraiya yelped. He shoved her out the way just in time, before he felt the full force of Fumihiro’s palm against his gut. With a muffled groan, Jiraiya crumpled to the ground in a heap, clutching his stomach. 

‘Jiraiya!’ Tsunade cried. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fumihiro?! Are you crazy?! You can’t just -’

She was cut off when Fumihiro smacked his fist against her cheekbone. Tsunade thought she felt something shatter, and a sharp pain shot the side of her face, momentarily blinding her. 

‘Looks like I can land a hit on an all-powerful Senju after all!’ Fumihiro snarled. 

‘For goodness sake!’ Tsunade shouted, finding her footing and cupping her swollen face. ‘I don’t want to fight you over something so trivial!’ 

‘Trivial? You think my mother’s death _trivial_?!’ Fumihiro yelled. 

Byakugan flashing, Fumihiro ran at her, his arms raised for battle. Tears in his eyes, he fired shot after shot of sharp blows against Tsunade. She managed to deflect and dodge the majority of them, her skills in Taijutsu coming into play, but she certainly didn’t expect to be up against such a powerful dojutsu. 

‘Stop it, Fumihiro!’ she panted. ‘You’ve made your point!’

‘I won’t have made my point until I send you back to your precious Uncle beaten to a pulp! Then maybe my _point_ will have finally hit home!’ Fumihiro retorted. 

With a cry, his palm made quick contact with Tsunade’s face. She was certain something broken then, likely her nose, given the stream of blood that erupted from it. Her mouth filling with the taste of iron, Tsunade threw a punch back and caught him in the centre of his forehead. But at that point, Fumihiro was so driven by scorching grief that he didn’t even register the hit, and instead responded with his own. 

Tsunade felt the air being forced out of her lungs as he made a cruel and precise jab in her stomach, the same place he had hit Jiraiya. Winded, Tsunade faltered, her eyes flashing in an attempt to keep up with his quick moves. She fumbled for something, anything to help, and her fist closed around a handful of dust. She threw it at him and it burst in a cloud of brown in his face. He took several steps back, rubbing his stinging eyes. 

‘Why, you,’ he snapped. 

‘Listen,’ Tsunade said, struggling to breathe from his hit, ‘I know you’re not thinking straight, but you need to -’

Tsunade was cut off again, but this time, in shock. Fumihiro had drawn a kunai from behind his back, clearly ready to do some serious damage, but his arm had been caught before he could. Orochimaru was standing behind him, shaking. 

‘Lay another finger on either of my friends, and I’ll blind you,’ he muttered. In his other hand were a pair of shuriken. As had been demonstrated that same day, Orochimaru never missed his targets. 

‘Get off me!’ Fumihiro said, freeing himself from Orochimaru’s trembling grip. ‘You’re trying to defend her, too? You’ve lost even more than me in the name of the Senju!’ 

‘My parents didn’t die for the Hokage, the Senju, or for anyone else sitting in that Mansion,’ Orochimaru said. ‘They died for Konoha. And I didn’t try and enact revenge on the whole village and its populace for something out of my control. If anything, I’m proud of them for their sacrifice.’ 

‘Are you kidding me?’ Fumihiro shouted. ‘How can you say that? They died as nothing but dogs for the Senju! And you have the audacity to hang around with the spawn of the very man who sent them to their deaths! Have you no shame?’ 

‘No shame? I’m not the one trying to hurt a fellow classmate for something she had nothing to do with, Fumihiro,’ Orochimaru muttered. 

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Fumihiro snapped. Tsunade, who was still knelt on the ground trying to find her breath, didn’t register what was happening when Fumihiro’s foot connected with her temple. It felt like her head had just split like an egg, and she winced in pain, falling backwards. 

Everything that happened next was too fast for her to keep up with. All she knew was that, in the aftermath, Orochimaru had pinned Fumihiro to the ground and was throwing punch after punch to his face. Fumihiro was crying out in pain, his hands thrashing against the ground. 

‘Oro...stop…’ Tsunade whispered, quite concussed by still trying to get to her feet. 

‘I told you not to touch them again,’ Orochimaru said, his voice deadly level.

Fumihiro squirmed under Orochimaru’s grip, trying to push him off him and failing miserably. 

‘Orochimaru! Stop it! You’re hurting him!’ Tsunade said, scrambling towards them. The smell of blood assaulted the air, and poor Fumihiro’s face was so swollen and bruised his Byakugan were barely visible through the slits of his eyes. 

‘He hurt you. And he hurt Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, a shadow cast over his face.

‘Oro, it’s - it’s okay,’ Jiraiya said, limping over to them. ‘We’re both okay.’ 

‘Doesn’t matter. He made Tsunade bleed,’ Orochimaru muttered. 

Jiraiya and Tsunade exchanged a look, at a loss of what to do.

‘Listen here, Oro,’ Jiraiya said, putting both his hands on Orochimaru’s shoulders and pulling him back from Fumihiro. ‘There’s no need to be so heavy-handed with him. I know he hurt us pretty bad, but the guy is hurting more than any physical blows he can serve us!’ 

Fumihiro, who was moaning on the ground, coughed up blood through a split lip. 

‘But...but he…’ Orochimaru trailed off, looking at the blood on his hands and his swollen knuckles. He had totally lost control.

‘I know,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Man, I know. But you gotta keep it together, alright? You gotta know when to hold back.’ 

‘Very wise, young man.’ 

Hiruzen, who had come in search of Tsunade at Taichi’s behest, looked down on the young Shinobi with a peculiar expression on his face. 

‘Sarutobi,’ Tsunade said, wiping the blood from her nose, ‘we were just -’ 

‘Exchanging blows, judging by the state of your face. Are you hurt, Princess Tsunade?’ he asked. 

‘N-no. Not really. But Fumihiro…’ Tsunade fell silent, gesturing to where the boy was lying in a withering heap. Orochimaru had really done a number on him, and he had been totally overpowered. It was like Orochimaru had become possessed by something terrifyingly powerful. He forgot himself the moment Fumihiro gave Tsunade the final hit. 

Hiruzen sighed. ‘Goodness me. I know you’re eager to train, but there’s a fine line between improving yourself and outright violence. You, what’s your name?’ 

‘Jiraiya.’ 

‘Take this one to the hospital. He’s severely concussed and might need further medical attention,’ Hiruzen ordered. ‘Ask for Biwako and say I sent you. You should be seen fairly quickly.’

Jiraiya obeyed and knelt down, putting an arm around Fumihiro’s shoulders and supporting his weight. The Hyuga heir could barely walk, his feet dragging over the ground as Jiraiya hauled him away. He glanced nervously between Tsunade and Orochimaru. 

Run along now, son,’ Hiruzen said. 

Jiraiya just nodded. They were in no position to argue after what had happened. 

‘Now you, Princess Tsunade,’ Hiruzen said, his hands on his hips, ‘you’re late for training with your father. He told me to come fetch you on my way to the Police Headquarters, but I sure never expected this.’ 

‘I - it wasn’t my fault,’ Tsunade mumbed, her face throbbing from Fumihiro’s brutal hit. ‘Fumihiro lost his mother on that mission you went on, and he’s mad at my family because of it.’

Hiruzen nodded. ‘Hm. I see. Well, if you’re not injured, you’d best get going to your father. Between you and I, he didn’t seem best pleased that you were late.’

Gulping, Tsunade got ready to set off, before she turned to Orochimaru. The small boy was still sitting on the ground, his hands trembling. 

‘Hey, Sarutobi?’ Tsunade said.

‘Hm?’

‘Go easy on him, won’t you?’ Tsunade said softly. ‘He’s my friend. And he did it in defense of me and Jiraiya.’ 

‘Understood, Princess Tsunade.’


	9. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sannin celebrate their promotion to Genin, Jiraiya and Orochimaru bond with the Senjus, and Tobirama clashes with his nephew-in-law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUH so this is nearly 10,000 words...nice beefy chapter with a heck of a lot going on, I guess!! So I apologise for any typos in advance - I'm doing my best, but some of those suckers always sneak through!  
> Only two more chapters in PART ONE: THE GENIN SAGA, and then we'll moving on to a new era, beginning when the Sannin are 13/14, and progressing through the Second Shinobi War.  
> Thanks for the continued support! Please comment n stuff if you wanna show the love <3

Chapter Nine: Rebirth 

Date: 32 A.K. (After Konoha)

After the Fumihiro incident, as it became known, the war also became known. Privately, Tobirama knew the villages had been at war, even after Hashirama had called that Summit. The period of tentative peace that followed the gifting of the Tailed Beasts was false. There was no denying that. But the Shinobi Villages had been greatly weakened thanks to the Warring Period and none of them had made any major moves.

However, the death of Kairi Hyuga, the heir to the Main Branch, became the catalyst for a formal announcement. With the First Shinobi War officially waging, the pressure was on Chiharu to get the new recruits up to scratch. It would mean bringing the Genin exam forward, but she was prepared for that. In any case, it was important to have as many active Shinobi as possible ready to defend Konoha, even if some of them were only 6 years old. It was almost comical, how quickly those kids were expected to grow up. 

As the Shinobi force teemed with anxious energy, blood already being spilt, the future Sannin were thoroughly despondent. The day before the Genin exam, they lazed by the river, contemplating recent events as if they were already old war veterans exchanging tiring stories of bloodshed and violence. 

‘My Pa said he might be deployed soon,’ Jiraiya said, his voice low. It was unusual for him to seem so sapped of energy, considering his usual self. 

‘Mine too,’ Tsunade mumbled. It had been months since the little scrap with Fumihiro, but her cheekbone (which had been fractured, as she suspected) was still causing occasional tingling. Biwako had explained that, since facial bones have numerous channels in which sensory nerves run, peculiar sensation was to be expected even long after an injury. The sensory nerves, which are responsible for sensing touch, pain and temperature, distribute themselves throughout the facial tissue when they emerge. After Fumihiro hit her, the soft tissue of her face was severely damaged, meaning the sensory nerves were almost jarred. Her nose fared better, but both she and Jiraiya suffered from bruised ribs. 

Orochimaru was the only one who came out unscathed, even after Hiruzen reprimanded him. But the exchange between him and his future Sensei, to Orochimaru’s surprise, was relatively gentle. They ended up going on a lengthy walk around the village. Hiruzen spoke quietly and softly to Orochimaru the whole time, as if afraid he’d scare him off. Eventually, they reached the graveyard. As if on autopilot, they arrived at Orochimaru’s parents’ graves. 

_‘Say, young Orochimaru,’ Hirzen had said, watching the small boy gaze forlornly at the headstones. ‘What made you so angry back there? You must know that assaulting a fellow classmate to that extent is wrong, don’t you?’_

_Orochimaru was quiet for a moment. ‘Yes. I know the difference between right and wrong.’_

_‘Then why did you attack him so brutally?’ Hiruzen asked. ‘As I said, training is one thing, but you seemed intent on causing that boy serious damage. If that Jiraiya didn’t pull you back, I fear what might have happened - why, I nearly got involved myself, seeing how harshly you were clobbering him.’_

_Orochimaru winced, rubbing his hands against his trousers. They were stained with blood and were swollen from the excessive punches he threw._

_‘You...you understand what you did was wrong, don’t you?’ Hiruzen repeated._

_‘...I’m starting to think the difference between right and wrong isn’t so linear,’ Orochimaru whispered. ‘Because...what if you do something wrong in the name of something right? What if it’s the injustice thing to do, but in the name of justice? What happens then?’_

_‘You believe your actions were justified?’ Hiruzen asked._

_‘Yes. He hurt my friends,’ Orochimaru said, clenching his fists at the memory._

_Hiruzen lifted his eyes up to the sky, and sighed a long, weary sigh, one far too troubled for a 23 year old. ‘Well, that’s true enough, young Orochimaru. The boundary between right and wrong, good and bad, light and dark, is fragile and blurred. And it changes depending on the person.’_

_‘Then how am I meant to know the difference?’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘How am I meant to know when to hold back, like Jiraiya said?’_

_Hiruzen put a land on Orochimaru’s head and ruffled his dark hair. ‘That’s the question we’re constantly asking ourselves as Shinobi, and to identify it at such a young age is impressive. I will say this much, though - our choices define us, that much is true, but our reaction to our choices shows what is truly what is in our hearts. If you feel remorse or second-guess your decisions, it reveals what sort of a man you are. To feel regret, to wonder the difference between right and wrong, makes a good Shinobi. Acting blindly makes you a puppet.’_

_Orochimaru nodded slowly._

_‘And I’ll let you in on a little secret, since we’re being so philosophical,’ Hiruzen smiled._

_‘What is it?’_

_Patting his head, Hiruzen grinned broadly. ‘Son, the secret to being a good Shinobi is to find someone you want to protect.’_

_Orochimaru’s eyes widened. A sense of understanding washed over him, like the clouds clearing on an overcast day. Perhaps he_ would _make a good Shinobi, after all. For he’d already found the two people he wanted to protect. As he looked at his parents’ headstones, deep in thought, with Hiruzen looming behind him, a slight glint shimmered in the corner of his eye._

_Kneeling down, Orochimaru pushed past the wilting flowers - he’d have to change them - and found a clear, fragile shell of sorts. He picked it up curiously._

_‘What’s this?’ he asked, holding it up to Hiruzen._

_‘Hm? Oho! What a lucky find!’ Hiruzen beamed. ‘That, my boy, is a snake skin. It’s impressive that it’s one piece, I must say.’_

_‘Why is it white?’ Orochimaru asked, peering at it._

_‘Who knows? I couldn’t say,’ Hiruzen said. ‘But it must be some sort of karma that you found it here. A snake shedding its skin is a symbol of rebirth. Say, perhaps your parents have been reborn somewhere? Wouldn’t that be something, eh?’_

_Orochimaru poked at it gently. ‘Good luck and renewal…’ he whispered._

_‘What was that, son?’_

_‘Nothing,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Nothing at all.’_

‘Do you think they’ll be on a team again? Our Dads?’ Jiraiya said, jogging Orochimaru out of his thoughts. He had kept the snake skin and put in a special display case. It sat on his bedside table. 

‘No clue,’ Tsunade said, stretching out and lying on the grass. ‘But I know Uncle is putting together a special team for when it gets super bad in the future.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Jiraiya asked. 

‘Hm,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘Uncle Tobirama is gonna lead it, so you know it’s elite. Sarutobi, my father, that creep Danzo, Koharu, Homura, and Kagami Uchiha are all part of it, I think.’

‘How did you work that out?’ Orochimaru said.

Tsunade reddened slightly in guilt. ‘Um, well...my father left a scroll detailing the potential cell lying around the house, so I just sort of...looked at it.’ 

‘Hang on,’ Jiraiya said, lying back on the grass to join her. ‘Did you say an Uchiha is gonna be on a team with the Hokage? He hates the lot of them!’ 

‘Oh, not Kagami,’ Tsunade said. ‘He’s always hanging around the Mansion. He’s a really awesome Ninja, you know. Not like the rest of those stuck-up jerks.’

‘That’s a bit rich, coming from Konoha Royalty,’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘And it’s not fair to generalise like that, Tsu,’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘Clearly that Kagami Uchiha is proof that not all of them are bad.’

Tsunade sucked in her cheeks. ‘I’m not so sure. I definitely don’t want to be put on a Team with Hiromichi, at any rate.’

‘That’s a thought,’ Jiraiya said. ‘If we all pass the exam tomorrow, we’ll get put into three-man teams, right? How’d you reckon they’ll split it?’ 

‘I’d sooner drown in this river than be on a team with Hiromichi or Fumihiro,’ Tsunade said, sticking her nose in the air. 

‘They’d make one heck of a strong team, mind,’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Which is why you’d definitely not be a part of it,’ Tsunade said. 

Before Jiraiya could retort, outraged, Orochimaru cleared his throat. He had become attuned to when the pair of them would start bickering and had learnt when to intervene. 

‘That being said, Chiharu-sensei might balance the teams,’ he said. ‘As in, the strongest in the class could be with the weakest, if that makes sense.’

‘So you’ll be stuck with Jiraiya then, Oro,’ Tsunade grinned. 

Jiraiya stuck his tongue out at her.

It was then that Tsunade noticed the time with a jolt. The sun was low in the sky, much lower than her father would approve of, and she leapt to her feet.

‘Dammit, I’m gonna be late!’ she said. ‘Sorry, guys, I have to run. See you tomorrow for the exam! Get lots of rest!’ 

‘Tsunade? Hey, where are you - oh, she’s gone,’ Jiraiya said, rolling her eyes. ‘She scarpers pretty quickly these days, don’t you think?’ 

Orochimaru frowned to himself. ‘Yes. I think it had something to do with Taichi Senju.’

‘Her dad? Tsk, I don’t like the guy,’ Jiraiya muttered, still stung by the confrontation between Taichi and Benjiro in the restaurant. 

‘I get a bad read off him too, I must admit,’ Orochimaru said, watching Tsunade’s figure get smaller and smaller as she departed from the riverside. 

‘You don’t think Tsu is in trouble, do you?’ Jiraiya said, suddenly anxious. As much as he hated to admit it, he cared for her a great deal. After all, he _had_ taken a hit from Fumihiro for her (which she still hadn’t said thanks for, mind) and he certainly didn’t want to see her suffer.

‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Orochimaru said. ‘She has a loving mother and grandmother, a doting Great Uncle, and a little brother who worships the ground she walks on. I’m sure she’ll be fine.’

‘Is that disdain I detect in your voice, Oro?’ Jiraiya asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

‘Not disdain, no. Jealousy, perhaps,’ he said soberly. 

Jiraiya sat up and gazed over the river. The sun was turning the water into molten gold, and the breeze was gently ruffling the surface. It was rather beautiful, and for some reason, he thought of his mother.

‘Yeah. Must be nice...to have a big family,’ he mumbled. 

*

‘Alright, you lot,’ Chiharu said, clapping her hands together and making them all jump. ‘Today is the day! I know it’s quite soon in the academic year for you guys to take the Genin exam, but no time like the present!’ 

‘Plus, we’re at war,’ Kenzou muttered. ‘Of course the Hokage wants as many active Shinobi as possible.’ 

Chiharu didn’t argue with him. One, he was right, and two, he was too smart for his own good. 

‘You’ll be asked to perform a basic Transformation Technique. If you’re able to do so, and sustain it for a reasonable length of time, you’ll be temporarily promoted to the rank of Genin,’ Chiharu said. 

‘Temporarily? What do you mean?’ Hiromichi asked. 

‘Well, once you’ve been assigned a Team and Team Leader, they’ll likely conduct tests of their own according to their own standards,’ Chiharu explained. ‘So while you’ll graduate as Genin should you pass the test today, your Jonin in charge will still have every right to demote you if they feel it necessary.’

‘But that’s not fair!’ Jiraiya exclaimed, jumping up in his seat. ‘What if some of us get really strict team leaders?!’

Chiharu had a rather sinister smirk on her face. ‘Then it’s just too bad, I guess.’

‘But -’ 

‘ - put a sock in it, Jiraiya,’ Akari piped up. ‘It’s not like you’re gonna pass anyway.’ 

‘You’re one to talk! You can’t even remember all the hand signs!’ Jiraiya squawked, glaring at her. That was true, to be honest. Akari Sato was nearly as unimpressive as Jiraiya himself, and that was saying something. 

Akari herself didn’t bother to argue back, and that was because Chiharu was firing them both a particularly scorching glare, as if daring them to interrupt her again. 

‘As I was saying,’ Chiharu muttered, ‘after lunch, you will perform the jutsu in front myself, the class, Lord Hokage, and one of his closest advisors. For now, split into groups and practise. I’ll come round and help you all in turn, should you need it.’

‘Sheesh, why do we have to get tested in front of everyone?’ Jiraiya said, slumping his chin in his palm. ‘And the Hokage, of all people?’

‘I suppose it’s to make sure we don’t freeze up,’ Orochimaru said. 

‘You’re in trouble then, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said, turning to her. ‘After all, you completely botched that shuriken demonstration when Lord Second and your old man were watching.’ 

‘Oh, shut up,’ Tsunade snapped, clearly agitated at the reminder. ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about me, anyway. Have you ever successfully performed the Transformation Technique?’ 

‘Yeah, of course,’ Jiraiya said hotly, which was a complete lie. 

‘Well, at least we can be sure that Oro will pass,’ Tsunade said. ‘I mean, he can practically do it in his sleep.’

‘Goodness, I’m not that adept, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said twitchily. He was feeling rather nervous about the whole ordeal. To be scrutinised by senior members of Konoha during an exam would make even the most steely of people anxious. Tobirama had that impact on people. 

After lunch, Tobirama made his grand entrance, along with Jun. Jun had risen through the ranks during his time serving the Senjus, and was now a close advisor. He, along with Taichi, Komako, Mito, Hiruzen, and Kagami, made up part of the Council of Konoha. It was a great honour, but he still hadn’t quite learnt how to act appropriately superior for such a role. 

‘Yo, Princess Tsunade!’ Jun said cheerfully, waving at her. ‘How’s it goin’?’ 

Tsunade smiled at him and waved back from the middle row. She was going to answer, but Tobirama was glowering at Jun, as if to say _behave like a grown-up or I’ll fire you_. There was something in Jun that, privately, reminded Tobirama of his late brother. It was something to do with the goofiness that masked a great power, he reckoned. But such a trait as goofiness was not to be displayed to the young generation of Konoha, especially before an important test.

‘Lord Hokage,’ Chiharu said, bowing her head. ‘How good of you to come.’

‘Indeed. Though this time, Chiharu, I hope to avoid having stray shuriken veer at me,’ Tobirama said sternly. 

Gulping, Chiharu nodded vigorously. ‘Of course, Lord Hokage. I can assure you that Fumihiro has - er - been working on his aim.’ 

Tobirama looked down from his great height at the Hyuga boy, who was staring at his desk in concentration. Fumihiro was doing anything he could to avoid looking at Tobirama, lest his anger resurface. He couldn’t disgrace his clan again, after all. 

‘I am pleased to hear it. Though of course, today, the examination is in the Transformation Technique,’ Tobirama said, addressing the class. ‘As Chiharu-sensei would have told you, children, the Transformation Technique is a good way of gauging your abilities as Shinobi. It requires you to manifest chakra efficiently, and exercise control over it. The quality and the duration of your transformation are what will be assessed. You will each be asked to transform into myself, Chiharu-sensei, or Jun here. We will then survey your technique and post the results on the door at the end of the examination period. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Lord Hokage,’ the students said, in unnerving unison. Tobirama smiled to himself. Chiharu had trained them well, it seemed. 

‘We’ll start right away, then,’ Chiharu said, clearing her throat. ‘We’ll go in alphabetical order by surname - so, Daichi Aburame? You’re up first.’

And so the afternoon proceeded rather slowly, with the class watching on apprehensively as their peers performed the technique one after the other. Daichi did rather well, choosing to transform into Chiharu. There were a few discrepancies - namely her hairline was a little too extravagant, but it was a good go. In fact, most of the kids decided to model themselves after Chiharu, since they were the most familiar with her. As Tobirama had said, they were looking for accuracy, and transforming into someone one knows well is far more logical than modelling after someone like Jun, whom they had just met. Unsurprisingly, Tsunade chose to transform into Tobirama, since she had known him all her life. She did very well, the best out of the candidates so far. Were it not for Orochimaru, who was the last to perform given his lack of surname, she would have been top of the class. But Orochimaru’s transformation into Chiharu was so uncanny, that even Tobirama would have had trouble telling them apart. In the end, the results were posted as follows, with grades out of 10:

  * _Orochimaru - 10/10 (Outstanding Pass)_


  * Tsunade Senju - 9.5/10 (Outstanding Pass)


  * Hiromichi Uchiha - 9/10 (Outstanding Pass)


  * Fumihiro Hyuga - 8.5/10 (Outstanding Pass)


  * Isao Akimichi - 7.5/10 (Good Pass)


  * Daichi Aburame - 7/10 (Good Pass)


  * Yua Inuzuka - 6.5/10 (Pass)


  * Yui Inuzuka - 6.5/10 (Pass)


  * Kenzou Nara - 6/10 (Pass)


  * Riku Yamanka - 5.5/10 (Pass)


  * Akari Sato - 5.5/10 (Bare Pass)


  * Jiraiya - 5/10 (Bare Pass)



‘You _passed_? How?’ Akari gasped, staring in shock between Jiraiya and the list.

Flexing his muscles, Jiraiya grinned. ‘Hell yeah I did. Say, since I’m officially a Genin now, how about we go out for a bite to eat? Just you and me?’ 

Akari looked at him as if he’d just dribbled down her shoulder. ‘I’d rather have failed the exam if going out with you was the end result,’ she said, gagging. 

Isao chuckled heartily and slapped Jiraiya on the back. ‘Hard luck, man. Maybe set your sights elsewhere.’ 

‘Still, I’m surprised we all passed,’ Yui said, absent-mindedly scratching at the ears of her dog, Emi. ‘I was sure at least one of us wouldn’t make it.’

‘Well, it’s like I said,’ Kenzou said, yawning, ‘the Hokage needs as many Ninja as possible to make up our ranks. I’d guess that they lowered the passing threshold to accommodate such an ideal.’

‘Gosh,’ Riku swallowed, ‘you don’t think we’ll actually be sent off to fight, do you?’

‘Nah. We need mission experience working in teams before any of that,’ Kenzou said. ‘But afterwards, I wouldn’t be surprised if we started to run war errands, or something. Wouldn’t be anything strenuous, since we’ve only just made Genin, but we’ll probably be involved.’

‘That’s a scary thought,’ Riku shuddered.

‘Don’t sweat it, Riku!’ Jiraiya said eagerly. ‘Even if we’re not on the same team, I’ll protect you no matter what!’ 

Riku glared at him. ‘Sheesh, Jiraiya. You’ve only just been shot down by Akari, and you’re already after someone else? I don’t know whether to think you brave for your confidence, or stupid for you ignorance.’ 

‘I’d say the latter,’ Hiromichi muttered. 

‘Pipe down, Hiromichi,’ Jiraiya spat. ‘You’re just in a bad mood cus’ Tsunade and Oro beat you. By a lot, looking at those results. So much for the mighty Uchiha.’

‘That spoilt Princess only beat me by half a mark,’ Hiromichi snapped. ‘And I’m not naive enough to think I’d beat Orochimaru. The kid is a freak of nature, no doubt about it.’

‘I’ll say,’ Yua said. ‘He creeps me out even more than Daichi.’ 

‘That’s uncalled for. It’s because - ’ Daichi said, but no one paid him the slightest bit of attention. 

‘What’s next, then?’ Fumihiro said quietly, focusing on the end goal. He had been withdrawn ever since his scrap with the future Sannin, and was still mourning the loss of his mother. 

‘Chiharu-sensei said that we’ll be assigned our teams tomorrow,’ Akari said. ‘Guess that means we’ll also find out who our team leaders are gonna be.’ 

‘I hope I get someone cool!’ Jiraiya said, punching the air. 

‘They’re Jonin. They’ll all be cool,’ Akari replied dryly.

‘I heard that the Hokage’s own students are going to be in charge of Genin squads this year,’ Riku said eagerly. 

‘The Hokage’s errand boys? Great,’ Hiromichi muttered. ‘They’ll be ingrained with Uchiha prejudice, then.’

‘I heard the same thing,’ Kenzou nodded, leaving Hiromichi to his brooding. ‘I overheard Chiharu-sensei discussing it with some of my family around the Nara estate.’

‘Wow,’ Riku said, clutching her hands together. ‘That means Sarutobi will be one of them.’ 

‘Why do you sound so dreamy all of a sudden?’ Kenzou frowned. 

‘N-no reason,’ Riku stuttered, turning red. ‘He’s just very powerful, that’s all!’

‘And handsome,’ Isao said, waggling his eyebrows. 

‘That has nothing to do with it!’ Riku cried, flapping her hands about her face.

As the students started to tease Riku light-heartedly, Jiraiya noticed that Tsunade and Orochimaru were not with them. Apparently, they had seen their grades and silently departed. Slipping away from the excited gaggle of Genin, he found them outside. Orochimaru was sitting on a swing hanging from a tree, and Tsunade was talking to Tobirama. 

‘Hey, Oro!’ Jiraiya called, jogging over. ‘Good job back there! Top of the class and everything!’

He offered out his fist for a fist-bump, but Orochimaru looked at him blankly. 

‘It’s a fist-bump, Oro,’ Jiraiya said, rolling his eyes. ‘Honestly, you might be the class genius, but you have the social know-how of a sea cucumber.’

Blushing, Orochimaru bumped his fist against Jiraiya’s, and smiled up at him.

‘What’s Tsunade doing with the Hokage?’ Jiraiya said, squinting at them. ‘Wait a second...is she - is she _crying_? She never cries! She didn’t even cry when Fumihiro beat the snot out of her!’ 

‘I’m not sure. I think she was upset about her grade,’ Orochimaru said quietly. 

Jiraiya snorted. ‘Yikes, are you kidding me? She nearly got one hundred percent! That’s no reason to be upset!’ 

‘She was aiming for the top,’ Orochimaru said. ‘But because of me, she didn’t get there. I’ve upset her.’

‘Hey, enough of that,’ Jiraiya said sternly. ‘It’s not your fault, man. Plus, Tsunade is your friend - she’ll be super duper happy for you! I am, and I got the worst grade in the class!’ 

‘She doesn’t look happy,’ Orochimaru mumbled, looking over to where Tsunade was rubbing at her eyes. Tobirama had placed his hand on her shoulder, kneeling at her level, and was whispering in hushed tones.

Jiraiya sighed. ‘Honestly, it’s not because of you. Any normal kid would be over the moon getting such a good grade. I think it’s just...I think she has a lot of pressure on her shoulders, being a Senju and all. You and I don’t have that problem, but Tsunade? Her Grandfather was the most powerful Shinobi in history. That’s bound to weigh on her mind from time to time, you know?’

‘I never thought about it like that,’ Orochimaru said. 

‘That’s because we’re too busy being jealous of her big family,’ Jiraiya chuckled. ‘But we could do with wising up now and again, and try to put ourselves in her shoes. Sure, we’ve lost more than she can imagine, but she has her own stuff going on. We gotta respect that.’

Orochimaru gazed up at Jiraiya thoughtfully. ‘That was almost wise, Jiraiya.’

Grinning, Jiraiya pinned Orochimaru under his arm, and trapped him in a noogie. ‘Don’t get used to it, Mr. Genius.’ 

‘Excuse me, boys,’ Tobirama said, who had managed to sneak up on them. ‘You’re Tsuna’s friends, are you not?’

Orochimaru and Jiriaya, who had jumped out of their skins when Tobirama’s booming voice sounded in their ears, straightened up.

Yeah we are,’ Jiraiya said earnestly, releasing Orochimaru. ‘I mean, she’s annoying and loud and can be a pain in the butt, sure -’

‘- what Jiraiya meant to say was that we’re her friends and we care for her deeply,’ Orochimaru interrupted, his voice strained in annoyance at Jiraiya’s lack of tact. 

‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Tobirama said. ‘You both did well today. Tsunade’s mother, Komako, has put together a celebratory meal to honour her graduation today. Won’t you join us? Of course, if you have your own plans, that’s fine. I just thought it might cheer her up a bit.’

‘I’d love to!’ Jiraiya said, beaming. ‘My Pa is on a mission away from the village at the moment, so I was just gonna sit at home and do nothin’ special.’

‘Ah, I thought I recognised that white hair. You’re Benjiro’s son, aren’t you?’ Tobirama said. 

‘Sure am! And proud of it, too!’ Jiraiya grinned. 

‘And what about you? You’re Orochimaru, aren’t you?’ Tobirama asked. 

Orochimaru nodded. ‘It would be an honour, Lord Hokage, My parents are not...it would be nice to celebrate with people.’

‘Well, that’s settled then. Come along, you two.’

*

Of all the places Orochimaru thought he’d find himself that evening, sitting round the huge kitchen table in the Senju wing of the Mansion was not on the list. Swallowing nervously, he took a sip from his drink as he eyed the people around the table. 

Komako Senju, the beautiful and adept daughter of the First Hokage, sat to his left, giving Tsunade a great smacking kiss on her cheek. Jiraiya was to his right, playing peekaboo with Nawaki, and honestly, Orochimaru couldn’t work out who was enjoying it more. Mito, the First’s wife, was sitting next to Orochimaru, and was smiling to herself as she watched Jiraiya play with her grandson. The Second Hokage, Tobirama, was overseeing the whole event from the head of the table. All in all, Orochimaru was feeling the beginnings of panic, since he was sharing a meal with some of the most influential people in Konoha. And the whole experience was almost foreign to him. While his parents hadn’t been dead a long while, it was easy to forget the sounds of a happy home. 

‘I can’t believe it!’ Komako beamed, pinching Tsunade’s cheek. ‘My baby girl, a Genin! Your Grandfather would be _so_ proud!’

‘Get off, mum,’ Tsunade huffed, aware that Jiraiya would probably start using her mother’s simpering praise as ammunition for future arguments. ‘It’s not a big deal. Besides, depending on who my Sensei is, I might get demoted.’ 

‘I highly doubt that, Tsuna,’ Tobirama said. ‘It’s not common for newly-graduated Genin to have their forehead protectors taken from them so swiftly.’

‘Oh, speaking of which,’ Jiraiya piped out, a tako sausage sticking out of his mouth, ‘when do we get those, Lord Hokage? I wanna see what it looks like!’

‘Tomorrow, I suspect,’ Tobirama said, frowning at Jiraiya’s poor table manners. But really, he should have gotten used to it, given Tsunade had the grace and decorum of a starving ox. 

‘Awesome!’ Jiraiya beamed. ‘My old man is gonna get such a shock when he comes home to a fully qualified Genin in the house!’ 

‘I’m sure he will,’ Komako smiled. She had grown rather fond of Jiraiya in the short time he’d been around her table. 

‘Are you looking forward to it too, Orochimaru?’ Mito asked. She remembered him from the Entrance Ceremony, when she gave him Tsunade’s bento box. She was quite surprised to find he had made his way into her granddaughter’s affections, given how abrasive she could be.

‘I am, yes,’ Orochimaru replied shyly. ‘But I’m quite worried about who I’ll be in a team with. I want to be with Tsunade and Jiraiya, of course, but the chances of that are quite slim.’ 

‘Ah, it’ll be fine!’ Tsunade said. ‘How about I bet -’

‘ - no!’ Komako and Mito yelped in unison, both throwing out their hands as if to clamp them over her mouth and stop her talking. 

‘What?’ Tsunade squeaked. 

‘Tsuna,’ Mito said, pinching the bridge of her nose, ‘you know how useless you are when it comes to gambling. You’re almost as bad as your Grandfather.’

‘Exactly, exactly!’ Komako lamented. ‘Why, you’ve such bad luck, my girl, that you may as well put everything on _not_ being on a team with those two. The universe always does the exact opposite of what you bet, after all.’

‘That’s not true!’ Tsunade protested, as Jiraiya and Orochimaru started giggling. ‘I bet that Nawaki would be a boy, and it turned out so!’ 

‘Yes, but I distinctly remember telling you that my pregnancy with him was wildly different to yours, Tsuna,’ Komako smiled. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to predict he’d be born a boy.’

‘Are - are you really that bad, Tsu?’ Jiraiya snorted. ‘I never knew!’

‘Oh, she’s terrible,’ Komako said. ‘I mean, the other week, she bet her grandfather’s necklace that dear Jun wouldn’t make promotion to the Council, but he did! Luckily Jun is too kind-hearted to actually have taken the necklace off her, mind.’

‘I should hope so,’ Tobirama said. ‘Winning a bet against a 6 year old is hardly satisfying now, is it?’

‘Ah, but I reckon our Tsuna knows it, and uses it to her advantage,’ Mito said wisely. ‘After all, she bet that you’d fail the exam, Jiraiya - that means she wanted you to pass.’

‘Grandmother!’ Tsunade gasped, mortified, as Jiraiya laughed harder.

‘Well, what do you know, Princess?’ he grinned. ‘You must sort of like me after all!’

‘People get used to the smell of garbage if they hang around it long enough,’ Tsunade hissed. 

Jiraiya was unfazed, feeling like he was on cloud nine at the revelation. 

‘I’m gonna hold this over you forever, Tsunade!’ he winked.

Tsunade groaned, and put her face in her hands. ‘Oh, Gods help me.’ 

‘So, by your Grandmother’s logic, if you want to be on a team with us, you have bet that you won’t?’ Orochimaru said, wrapping his head around the bizarre theory.

‘Well, sure,’ Tsunade replied. ‘But I reckon that logic is gonna come round and bite me one day. I’ll probably put everything on something awful happening, and by some terrible twist of fate, it’ll actually come to pass. Knowing my luck.’

‘Unlucky or not, Tsuna, at least you have wonderful friends to look out for you,’ Komako smiled, ruffling her hair. 'There's no need to be so cynical.'

Tsunade smiled up at her mother. She had a point - Jiraiya and Orochimaru were proving to be wonderful friends. But if someone told her at the start of the year that she’d be close with the class clown and the ‘weirdo’, she’d have laughed in their face. It’s funny how things pan out.

‘Lady Uzumaki, would you pass me that dish?’ Orochimaru asked, pointing to a square plate where sashimi was laid out neatly. 

‘There’s no need to be so formal,’ Mito smiled, compiling. ‘After you, you don’t see your chum Jiraiya using my title.’

‘Well we got to know each other those times I came round for dinner!’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Not that you were actually invited, mind,’ Tsunade muttered.

‘Don’t be so glum, Tsu,’ Jiraiya winked. ‘You’re just jealous that your Grandma likes hanging out with me more than you.’ 

‘That’s not true!’ Tsunade exclaimed, before looking at Mito. ‘It’s - it’s not true, is it, Grandmother?’ 

Mito laughed at the indignant expression on Tsunade’s face. ‘Of course not, you silly girl. But Jiraiya is good company, I must say! We ought to have you and your father around one evening.’

‘Benjiro is always welcome here,’ Tobirama nodded. ‘He’s been exceptionally loyal these past few years - not to mention his skills in espionage and infiltration make him a valuable asset.’

‘Hell yeah!’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘My dad is a badass!’ 

‘Badass! Yeah!’ Nawaki said excitedly, kicking his little feet in his booster seat. He was only 3 but liked to join in at the table, even if he didn’t really understand everything that was being said. 

‘I see you’ve acquired a new word, Nawaki,’ Tobirama said, laughing for the first time in a long while. 

‘Er...yeah...sorry about that,’ Jiraiya said anxiously, blushing. 

‘No need to apologise, young man,’ Tobirama said. ‘Tsuna had learnt a dozen swear-words by the time she was his age. I don’t tend to bat an eyelid.’

‘Yes,’ Komako said, eying her daughter sternly, ‘that was my father’s fault. Honestly, what kind of adult takes a toddler to a _casino_?’ 

‘Oh, I remember that,’ Mito smiled, as Orochimaru laughed into his hands. ‘We asked him to babysit, and the next thing we knew, Tsuna was shouting things like ‘hot streak!’ and ‘all in’! Amongst other things that I daren’t repeat for Nawaki’s tiny ears.’

‘Really?’ Jiraiya snorted. 

‘Yes, really. My dear husband may have been responsible for the whole of Konoha, but he had the babysitting skills of a...well, a toddler, really,’ Mito said. She was trying to sound aloof and dismissive, but there was a deep fondness in her voice which betrayed her. 

‘I liked it when Grandpa took me there!’ Tsunade grinned. ‘It was so loud and colourful and everyone was super excited!’ 

‘Hashirama shared your sentiment,’ Tobirama nodded. ‘He was a sucker for a gambling house. And a sucker when it came to getting ripped off. The man didn’t know when to call it quits. Honestly, we’re lucky Konoha didn’t fall into serious debt with his habits.’ 

‘I - I can’t imagine the First Hokage being so irresponsible,’ Orochimaru giggled. 

‘He had his moments,’ Tobirama said. 

‘Man. You guys must miss him a lot,’ Jiraiya said. Tact was never his strong point. 

‘I...yes. I suppose we do,’ Tobirama said thoughtfully, folding his hands under his chin. In truth, not a day went by that he didn’t think of his brother. Of course, the ginormous stone face that observed him from the Hokage Monument made it rather difficult to shake him off, but even without that, Tobirama was sure his mind would always fall back to his brother. Mito was much the same. With Tobirama holed up in the office most days, Tsunade at the Academy, and Komako and Taichi going about their duties, it was awfully quiet in the wing. Without little Nawaki to keep her company, Mito feared she would have succumbed to intense loneliness. After all, he was the love of her love. That isn’t something one easily shakes off.

‘Right,’ Komako said, standing up. Her attempt to change the subject matter was painfully obvious, but necessary. ‘It’s time for cake, don’t you reckon?’ 

‘Cake? You made a cake?’ Tsunade gasped.

‘Well, I didn’t,’ Komako admitted. ‘You have your grandmother to thank for it!’ 

‘Oh, I can’t wait,’ Jiraiya grinned, smacking his lips together. ‘Mito’s cooking is the absolute best!’ 

‘I try my best,’ Mito smiled. 

Struggling under the weight of it, Komako staggered over with a huge cake. It was three tiered, decorated in snow-white icing. Around the edges, Mito had carefully piped dots of buttercream of all different colours, making a rainbow border to brighten the cake up. Neatly, the words _Congratulations, Tsunade_ lay across the middle of the cake. 

‘Oh, wait, wait!’ Mito said, leaping up.

‘What is it, mother?’ Komako asked, as Mito took it from her and walked over to the kitchen work surface.

‘You’ll see, just give me a second!’ Mito replied. 

‘Well, it looks amazing,’ Jiraiya said, his eyes glinting.

‘Indeed. I haven’t had a cake like that since my 5th birthday. But it wasn’t as glamorous - my mother had a tremor in her hands, so the piping was all wobbly,’ Orochimaru said. 

Tobirama regarded the small boy with interest. He still hadn’t tried to find out who his parents were, but he did remember a female Shinobi who’s hands never stopped shaking slightly. It was after a particularly bloody mission, if he remembered rightly. She had developed a tremor that she just couldn’t shake (excuse the pun), and while it didn’t necessarily impact her performance as a Shinobi, it was recognisable as a trait. That, and the lilac markings around her eyes. What was her _name_? Tobirama couldn’t remember for the life of him. 

‘Okay!’ Mito beamed. ‘That’s much better.’ 

The three Genin peered over at the cake when Mito set it on the table. In the same neat piping, it now read _Congratulations, Tsunade, Orochimaru & Jiraiya _!

‘Aw, wow!’ Jiraiya grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Thanks, Mito!’

‘If I’d known you were coming earlier, I would have corrected it sooner!’ Mito said. 

‘Well, it was all a bit last minute,’ Tobirama said. ‘I figured it would be nice for Tsuna.’ 

‘How surprisingly thoughtful of you, Tobirama,’ Mito winked. 

‘This is really wonderful. Thank you, Lady Uzumaki,’ Orochimaru said. His voice was laced with emotion, and if Mito didn’t know any better, she thought he was about to cry. 

‘It’s nothing. And I beg of you, stop with this ‘Lady Uzumaki’ nonsense,’ Mito said, patting his head.

‘I’ll - I’ll do my best,’ Orochimaru replied. 

Inside, the cake was layered with jam and buttercream, and it was absolutely delicious. Nawaki managed to complain that he ‘wasn’t given big enough!’ which roughly translated to ‘I wasn’t given a big enough slice!’. Komako had tried to explain that he was too little and would get tummy ache (‘tried’ being the operative word, since attempting to reason with a toddler is virtually impossible), but in the end, Jiraiya snuck him a little extra from his own slice, having developed a soft spot for the toddler.

‘Thanks, big bro!’ Nawaki gasped, as Jiraiya lumped it onto his plate. 

Tsunade blinked at the pair of them. ‘What the hell? He doesn’t even call me big sis yet!’ 

‘Well, have you ever given him extra cake?’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘The way into every kid’s good books is with food!’ 

‘Not just kids,’ Mito smiled. ‘I remember I didn’t think much of Hashirama until he treated me to an exquisite sushi platter. Then I started to take him a bit more seriously.’

‘Gosh, I remember that!’ Tobirama said. ‘He asked my advice on the fanciest food Konoha could muster, in its early days.’

‘Ah, so I have you to thank for that meal, Tobirama?’ Mito chuckled. ‘That means you’re responsible for our entire relationship!’

‘I don’t know whether you should be grateful or not, considering how much of a pain my dear brother could be,’ Tobirama sighed.

‘I, for one, am relieved! Else I wouldn’t be here! Thanks, Uncle,’ Komako beamed. 

The three adults started to laugh together, enjoying the memories of the one they held so dear. The Genin looked at them curiously. 

‘Is this what counts as humour in the grown-up world?’ Jiraiya said, cocking his head to one side. 

‘It must be. I can’t say I understand it,’ Orochimaru said. 

‘Neither. But it’s nice. I haven’t seen Uncle laugh in ages!’ Tsunade said. 

Unfortunately, Tobirama’s laughter was interrupted when the front door opened, and shut with a loud slam. The smile slid off his face like raindrops running down a window. 

‘Welcome home,’ Komako said, as Taichi slouched through the door with his usual gait of a wounded jungle cat. 

‘What’s all this?’ he asked, frowning at the table spread. 

‘Tsuna’s celebratory meal. I did tell you about it,’ Komako replied.

Taichi surveyed the people around the table with an unreadable expression. When his eyes fell on Jiraiya, he pressed his lips together. 

‘And why is the class clown sitting at my dinner table?’ he asked. ‘You should know, Tsuna, keeping such company may impact badly on you.’

‘Taichi, don’t start,’ Mito said reproachfully. ‘Jiraiya and Orochimaru are Tsuna’s friends, and our guests. I won’t allow you to insult them in such a way.’ 

‘Besides, I’m a Genin now!’ Jiraiya announced, pointing at Taichi with a satisfied grin. ‘And as far as I’m aware, the Hokage doesn’t let class clowns graduate!’ 

‘The standards really must be slipping,’ Taichi muttered. 

‘Just take a seat and join us, Taichi,’ Komako said, pulling out a chair for him. ‘Mother made the most wonderful cake, and there’s plenty left. Despite Nawaki’s best efforts!’ 

She let out a laugh, clearly trying to diffuse the mounting tension. The moment Taichi had lumbered into the house, it was like a shadow had befallen the family. Even Tobirama looked more on edge. 

Taichi moved his way slowly around the table, stopping by Tsunade. 

‘I trust, given the celebration, you also graduated, Tsuna?’ he asked. 

‘I did,’ Tsunade replied. There was a note of pride in her voice. 

‘Good. Where did you place?’ Taichi continued. 

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Komako said, nervous. ‘She made Genin, and that’s the most important thing - you should be happy for her!’ 

‘It does matter. Genin rankings are a good indicator of a Shinobi’s future prowess,’ Taichi said. 

‘Then you should be more than impressed to know she placed second,’ Tobirama said. ‘With an outstanding pass score of 9.5/10. She did incredibly well.’

Tsunade smiled in gratitude at her Uncle, who nodded at her approvingly. 

Taichi’s stare swivelled to settle on Orochimaru. ‘Ah. Of course. I assume you secured the top spot, young man?’

Orochimaru nodded, too apprehensive to say anything.

‘Hm. I suspected as much, but I had hoped that Tsuna would perform better than during that abysmal shuriken demonstration, but I guess my hope was in vain,’ Taichi said. 

‘I just said she did well,’ Tobirama said, through gritted teeth. Were it not out of respect for his niece, he would have thrown Taichi out a long time ago. 

‘You think second place is doing ‘well’, Hokage? Your standards really must be slipping,’ Taichi replied, repeating his earlier sentiment.

‘Um,’ Orochimaru swallowed. ‘If it’s any consolation, Mr. Senju, I spent nearly every waking hour practising for the exam. My...I don’t have any family, so I do it to fill the time. I’d be surprised if there’s anyone out there who trains as much as me.’

Orochimaru thought he was being helpful, but it had the opposite effect.

‘So, Tsuna, you’re telling me that you train less than a boy with no name?’ Taichi said.

‘That isn’t what I -’

‘ - answer the question, Tsunade,’ Taichi said, cutting across Orochimaru. ‘Honestly, first, you failed your shuriken demonstration. Then, you’re beaten by a Hyuga, and now this? I thought I told you to do your best.’ 

‘That was my best,’ Tsunade mumbled, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. 

‘Then it wasn’t good enough.’

‘Taichi, please,’ Komako said. ‘This is meant to be a celebration. There’s no need to be so hard on our daughter.’ 

‘There is every need,’ Taichi said, his voice rising. ‘Are you blind, Komako? We’re at war. And I’ve seen just how brutal the enemy can be - have you forgotten about Kairi? We were in the process of giving ourselves up, as ordered, and she was completely ripped to shreds!’

‘Kairi’s death was indeed regretful, but that doesn’t give you the right to be so harsh,’ Komako protested.

‘It gives me every right!’ Taichi said, slamming his fists on the table and making them jump. ‘You weren’t there, Komako! Kairi was one of Konoha’s best, and she was torn apart like she was nothing! Do you know what that was like? I can still smell the blood!’ 

Komako sighed sadly. ‘I understand that. I’ve seen my fair share of violence, my love, but still...you need to learn some restraint. Tsunade deserves to hear praise from you at least from time to time.’

‘Agreed,’ Tobirama said dryly. His patience was wearing incredibly thin when it came to his nephew-in-law. 

‘I agree, too!’ Jiraiya piped up, as if he had any part in the family discussion. 

‘Jiraiya,’ Tsunade muttered, ‘no offence, but you don’t exactly have any authority here.’

‘Sorry,’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘I just think it takes a pretty lame old man to not be proud of his own kid, that’s all.’ 

A vein popped in Taichi’s temple. ‘I can’t expect you to understand. You’re just a child. When you’ve fought in a war, Jiraiya, you’ll start to comprehend what it means to be truly strong.’

‘The secret to being a good Shinobi is finding someone you want to protect,’ Orochimaru murmured.

Tobirama’s eyes widened. He had said the same thing to Hiruzen, once, when he was just a boy. The Will of Fire was passing down from generation to generation after all. Hashirama was right.

‘That sentiment is soft,’ Taichi spat. 

‘You think my brother soft, Taichi?’ Tobirama said, his voice dangerously level. ‘Those were the words he lived by.’ 

‘Of course not,’ Taichi said. ‘Lord First was more powerful than all of us combined. I merely meant that the sentiment is soft. Lord First proved time and time again that he was much stronger than his words might suggest. And that is what I want for the next generation, that’s all.’

‘But...but I am pretty strong already, Father,’ Tsunade said, finally mustering the courage to speak up. ‘I mean, for my age group. I know I’m no where near Grandpa’s level or anything.’

‘We wouldn’t expect you to be, sweetheart,’ Komako said gently. 

‘Hokage,’ Taichi said, his voice tight, ‘how powerful was Hashirama at Tsuna’s age?’ 

‘Honestly? He was a bit of a goofball,’ Tobirama said. ‘Always clashed with our father, never seemed serious, and despised the Shinobi way. It was only later he developed into a splendid warrior, and that was in part thanks to his time with Madara Uchiha. Having a good training partner, and someone to share his dreams with, really helped him.’ 

‘See what I mean?’ Taichi said, glaring at his daughter. ‘You need to keep better company. Being so pally with the class clown is bound to have a negative impact on your performance.’ 

‘Why are you so obsessed with me?’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘Exactly,’ Tsunade said. ‘And if anything, Father, Jiraiya has been great at helping me train. They both have. And I know you think he’s had a ‘negative impact’, but come on! I got 9.5/10! What’s wrong with that?’ 

‘You know full well. I told you to get the top score in the class,’ Taichi hissed. ‘You’re a Senju, Tsunade, not some orphan with no clan or some brat with the skills of a definicent Genin. Don’t forget - you haven’t even unlocked wood style yet. Until that day has come, you’ll never be as strong as you’re destined to be.’

‘I - I don’t care about wood style,’ Tsunade stammered. ‘I’m a pretty good Genin in my own right, and I don’t need Jutsu like that to be successful!’

Without warning, Taichi threw his hand in the air as if to strike her. By instinct, Tsunade winced away from him as his hand cut through the air. But it never made contact. At once, Tobirama was standing behind Taichi, holding his wrist in an iron grip and breathing heavily from his sudden movement. 

‘I warned you before, Taichi,’ he growled. ‘That if you ever raised your hand to my great-niece again, I would not be so forgiving as the last time.’ 

Taichi gritted his teeth, yanking his arm from his grip. 

‘Don’t you understand?’ he shouted. ‘I just want her to fulfill her potential as a Senju! She can’t do that unless she is the best!’

‘Striking her won’t help!’ Tobirama bellowed, waves of chakra pulsing in the air as he fought to contain his anger. He remembered distinctly the sound of his own father, Butsuma, hitting Hashirama when he was a boy with such force that he was knocked off his feet. He would not allow history to repeat itself. 

‘Get some air, Taichi,’ Komako ordered, her voice shaking. 

Cursing under his breath, Taichi turned away from Tobirama, his jaw clenched. 

‘None of you understand,’ he muttered. 

‘You think we don’t understand? Are you kidding me?’ Mito scoffed. ‘I was involved in a bigger war than you could ever know! And both Tobirama and I both lost things you could never imagine! Don’t you _dare_ think we don’t understand the realities of war just because we don’t treat Tsuna like she’s some sort of punching bag we use to vent our frustrations!’

Taichi, along with everyone else, reeled in shock. Mito hardly ever raised her voice, and she certainly never spoke so harshly to members of her own family.

‘Do as my daughter says,’ Mito said, breathing heavily. ‘Get some air, clear your head, and when you’re ready to apologise to your family, come back.’

Taichi’s jaw set and a muscle pulsed against his cheek. He gave Tsunade, who was shaking slightly, a withering glare. 

‘Do better next time, Tsuna. You’re Uncle won’t be around forever,’ he said icily. 

Tsunade swallowed thickly, setting her gaze on the cake in front of her. She felt tears prickle in her eyes as she looked at it, but blinked them away. How quickly times could change. She had been enjoying herself, but with a few taut words, Taichi had single-handedly put everyone in the room in a foul mood. She felt her face burn in embarrassment as Jiraiya and Orochimaru blinked at her, clearly shocked. She was just about ready to make a quick escape to the sanctuary of her bedroom, before Jiraiya let out a low whistle. 

‘Sheesh,’ he said, as Taichi left. ‘What’s got his knickers in such a twist, eh?’ 

Jiraiya’s choice of phrase was so outrageous and absurd for the seriousness of the situation, that Komako and Mito couldn’t help but burst out laughing. 

‘What indeed,’ Komako sighed, shaking her head. ‘I sincerely apologise for that, you two. My husband...he has a tendency to fly off the handle a bit. Call it the stress of being a Shinobi.’

‘That isn’t stress,’ Tobirama muttered. ‘It is corruption. I shall have to have words with him when he returns.’

‘Are you alright, Tsuna?’ Mito asked softly. The last time, Tobirama hadn’t been so quick, and he ended up exacerbating her already bruised cheekbone. That was also why it still tingled from time to time. Not that Tsunade told the boys.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, doing a fine job of pretending it was so. ‘After all, this is meant to be a celebration! No point in being all mopey.’ 

Mito had to respect her granddaughter’s resilience. ‘Indeed. More cake, anyone?’ 

‘Me, me!’ Nawaki cried, kicking his little feet in excitement. 

And just like that, things fell back into the peaceful ebb of normality. 

*

‘I can’t believe Tsunade’s old man,’ Jiraiya huffed. He and Orochimaru were making their way to the Academy the next morning - Jiraiya always swung by Orochimaru’s place so they could walk together - and while still full of cake, they were also filled with trepidation and worry about Taichi’s spiralling behaviour.

‘I know what you mean,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘At least Lord Second is around. He did say he’d exchange words with Mr. Senju, so perhaps that will help?’ 

‘Still,’ Jiraiya said, putting his hands behind his head, ‘my Pa would never even think about raising his hand to me, and I can be super annoying.’ 

‘You, annoying? That’s a shocker,’ Orochimaru smiled, nudging him. 

‘Hey, guys!’ Tsunade waved. She was standing waiting for them in front of the Academy, as she did most mornings. After all, the Mansion was just a stone throw’s away from the building. 

‘Morning, Tsu,’ Orochimaru smiled. ‘How...how are you?’ 

‘Fine, why wouldn’t I be?’ she replied, oddly defensive. 

‘Gee, I dunno,’ Jiraiya said, drumming his fingers on his chin in mock thought. ‘Maybe because your old man literally tried to hit you yesterday?’

Tsunade felt her face redden. ‘It was nothing. He just - he’d never actually do it, you know.’

‘Looked like he was gonna to me,’ Jiraiya pouted.

‘Well he wouldn’t, alright?’ Tsunade snapped, lying through her teeth. ‘Can’t you just drop it already?’ 

‘Yeesh, okay,’ Jiraiya said, holding up his hands in surrender. 

‘Come on, you two. We don’t want to be late - we might miss Chiharu-sensei announcing the teams,’ Orochimaru said, gesturing for them to follow him inside.

Chiharu stood at the front of the class, scrutinising her list. She had been up late with Tobirama discussing team arrangements. He had been delayed - something about a family engagement - so they didn’t actually finalise the teams until 2am that morning. Stifling a yawn, her eyes fell on Tsunade’s name. Tobirama had been painfully specific about who he wanted to lead his great-niece’s team, and even more so about who would join her. Personally, Chiharu didn’t think putting the two top students together made tactical sense, but she wasn’t about to argue. Besides, they would, theoretically, balance out the worst performing student. 

‘Okay, everyone,’ she said, smiling at them all. She was feeling rather proud of her little lot. ‘Once I’ve announced your teams, you can come to the front and collect your forehead protectors!’

There was a collective gasp of awe and excitement as her hand waved over the box where the brand-new headbands were stacked. 

‘Then, your new team leaders will come and collect you,’ Chiharu continued. ‘Rest assured, myself and Lord Second spend a long while carefully deliberating the best fit for each and every one of you. You won’t be disappointed! Now, without further ado…’ 

Chiharu trailed off for dramatic effect. Every student seemed to hold their breath. She knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t resist - she remembered how nerve-racking and excited she had been to find out her new Sensei, and was feeling a little nostalgic. After all, her forehead protector had become worn and scratched with age and battle experience. It had been so long that she’d been in their place, fidgeting on the bench, fingers crossed under the table. Times change and they always will. Soon, she’d have a new squad of students to prepare for the Shinobi world. But she couldn’t help and indulge herself, just for a little while. 

‘Team Four!’ she announced, making them all jump slightly. ‘Hiromichi Uchiha, Fumihiro Hyuga, and Akari Sato!’ 

Hiromichi and Fumihiro, who were good friends, grinned at each other. Akari didn’t seem to care one way or the other. The logic of Team Four was visual prowess - while Akari didn’t possess a dojutsu like Hiromichi’s soon-to-be-awakened Sharingan, or Fumihiro’s Byakugan, class observations had shown that she manifested her chakra through her optic nerve when she worked to perform jutsu. Tobirama was sure, given Akari’s mediocre clan, that it was more of a defect than an advantage, but he felt that working with dojutsu users could awaken some sort of potential in her. Plus, Hiromichi and Fumihiro’s skills could benefit her own, considering she came second from last in the exam.

‘Whew. Dodged a bullet there, Tsu,’ Jiraiya said. Putting Tsunade in a Team with Fumihiro, given their history, and Hiromichi, given Tobirama’s history, would have been a big mistake. 

After Team 4 had collected their headbands and proudly tied them around their foreheads - with the exception of Akari, who fashioned hers as a scarf of sorts - Chiharu continued with her announcements.

‘Team Five,’ she said, ‘will be made up of Daichi Aburame, Yua Inuzuka, and Yui Inuzuka.’ 

‘Gross! We have to hang around with bug boy?’ Yua shuddered. 

‘The feeling is more than mutual, trust me,’ Daichi muttered. ‘I despise the smell of dogs.’

‘You better get used to it, guys. There’s no changing of Teams unless something goes hideously wrong,’ Chiharu said. Plus, they’d make a formidable sensory team, in time. With the Inuzuka’s tracking skills, and Daichi’s expertise in espionage with the use of the near silent kikai, they’d become very useful. 

‘Next up: Team Six!’ Chiharu said, once the newly-formed Team Five had begrudgingly collected their forehead protectors. ‘Isao Akimichi, Kenzou Nara, and Riku Yamanka!’ 

‘What a surprise. There was little point in turning up today,’ Kenzou yawned, as Isao and Riku highfived. 

‘Wait a second,’ Jiraiya muttered, counting the students around the room. ‘Doesn’t that mean…?!’ 

Chiharu couldn’t help but grin at Jiraiya as he did the maths. She had developed a soft-spot for the Academy’s misfits. ‘That’s right! Team Seven will be...Tsunade, Orochimaru, and you, Jiraiya!’ 

There was a moment of complete shock on the part of Orochimaru and Tsunade, who were amazed they were in the same Team as each other. They had expected one of them would end up with Jiraiya to balance out his ineptitude, but they never thought they’d get to work all together.

‘YES!’ Jiraiya cried, leaping up onto the table and punching the air. ‘I get to be on a Team with Tsunade!’ 

‘And me, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru muttered, frowning at him. 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Jiraiya said. ‘But isn’t this great?! We’ll get to go on missions and train together and do all sorts of awesome stuff!’ 

‘Indeed. It is pretty great,’ Orochimaru nodded. A small smile played on his lips. How lucky he was, to be on a Team with the only two people who seemed to accept him. 

‘Wow. I didn’t see that coming,’ Tsunade said thoughtfully. ‘You better not hold me back, Jiraiya.’ 

‘Fat chance of that. Like I said on our first day here - I’m gonna be a world-class Shinobi! Even more powerful than the Senjus!’ 

‘Best of luck with that, Jiraiya,’ Chiharu sighed. ‘Now get down off that table and come and collect your headband. Your Sensei will be here any minute!’

As the groups sat together, chatting excitedly - with the exception of Team Five, who seemed visibly irked - time passed slowly as they all waited for their new Leaders. 

The first to arrive was Taichi. Jiraiya heard Tsunade suck in a deep breath, clearly terrified from the prospect of him being their Sensei, but his eyes passed over them and settled on Team Six. 

‘Hm. A Nara, an Akimichi, and a Yamanka. How inventive,’ he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Chiharu shot daggers at him. _If it ain’t broke_ , she thought. 

Team Six followed Taichi dutifully out of the door, and Chiharu sighed after them. She thought it was a terrible idea, putting him in charge of young and impressionable Genin, but Tobirama had been very explicit. Something about ‘taking his mind off other things’, or something. She knew that Komako had her own Team in the year above, yet she couldn’t help but wish, out of all the Senjus, she was the one to take her clansman under her wing.

Next came Homura. The rumours had been true - Tobirama’s very own students would be overseeing the Genin. Even though Team Tobirama were only in their early twenties, they were highly accomplished Jonin and well regarded in Konoha. Chiharu thought it was a wonderful idea.

‘Oh, boy,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘I think I’d rather have my father than a stuffy old fool like him.’ 

‘Team Four?’ he said, and Team Seven breathed a sigh of relief. 

It made sense. Homura was close with Kagami Uchiha - closer than the others, at least - so Chiharu figured he might be less severe towards poor Hiromichi. She thought the whole Uchiha prejudice was rather foolish anyway, since many of the new generation had nothing to do with the affairs of the past, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to call out Tobirama on the matter. 

Team Five were collected by the second member of Team Tobirama: Koharu. Her skillset lay in tracking and espionage, so it was a match made in heaven (if only Yui, Yue and Daichi would just agree to disagree and stop bickering about who’s technique was ‘the creepiest’). 

Finally, and after what seemed like an eternity for Team Seven, Hiruzen Sarutobi stuck his head round the door. 

‘Well,’ he grinned, as Tsunade, Jiraiya and Orochimaru all gasped in collective joy, ‘looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me, eh?’ 


	10. Navigating Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya is injured, Orochimaru wallows in guilt, and Tsunade bids farewell to Tobirama.

Chapter Ten: Navigating Guilt

Date: 33 A.K (After Konoha)

‘He needs a hospital,’ Hiruzen panted, the moment Team 7 stumbled through the gates into Konoha. 

They had been on a simple C-Rank mission, but the tables had rapidly turned when they were ambushed by a group from Kumogakure. If his Genin hadn’t been so skilled, Hiruzen was certain the three kids would have been slaughtered. Jiraiya had really started to develop as a Shinobi, and while still below Tsunade and Orochimaru, had improved - but that didn’t mean he was able to dodge all the attacks. While Hiruzen was caught up with another high ranking Shinobi, his Team had suffered a brutal attack. Orochimaru earnestly stated that he tried to rescue Jiraiya, but wasn’t quick enough, and as a result, Jiraiya was bleeding heavily from the abdomen, with poison coursing through his body.

‘I’ll run ahead and notify the medical ninja,’ Tsunade said, speeding off. Hiruzen was grateful for her quick-thinking - and her skill. While meagre at best, Tsunade had observed enough of Mito and Biwako to have a basic understanding of the haemostatic jutsu, which stopped the bleeding just long enough for them to make it to the village. Hiruzen swallowed thickly. It had been a very close call on all fronts. 

‘Is - is he going to be okay?’ Orochimaru whimpered, running alongside Hiruzen. 

‘Jiraiya has the tenacity of a cockroach,’ Hiruzen said. ‘He’ll be just fine.’ 

‘I’m...not...a...a cockroach,’ Jiraiya rasped. 

‘See? He’s still talking despite being severely injured,’ Hiruzen said, finding himself smiling for the first time all day. 

‘Y-yeah...gimme...some...credit,’ Jiraiya managed. Struggling, he raised his fist and offered it out to Orochimaru. His arm was shaking badly from the effort and the motion of being carried at top speed, but Orochimaru managed to connect his fist to Jiraiya’s. 

‘Hang in there, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru murmured. 

Jiraiya was seen almost immediately, given the severity of the situation and his age, which left his team on tenterhooks. Hiruzen headed over to the Mansion in order to notify Tobirama, and to seek out Jiraiya’s father, Benjiro. Tsunade, who was pacing, kept trying to sneak looks into the operating room, until an assistant threatened to hit her with a broom like she was a misbehaving cat.

‘What a joke,’ Tsunade muttered, sitting down on one of the waiting chairs next to Orochimaru. ‘How am I meant to learn if I’m not allowed near any actual operations?’

Orochimaru shrugged. How typical of Tsunade - she was channelling her obvious worry for Jiraiya into something productive. It was a good distraction technique, but not one that Orochimaru had managed to master. All he could think about, as he sat twiddling his thumbs, was the mission.  _ Where did I go wrong _ ? he thought, mentally revising his moves and attack patterns in his head.  _ Why couldn’t I get to him in time? Why did I fail? Why wasn’t I able to protect my friend?  _

‘Hey. You alright, Oro?’ Tsunade said, as if reading his mind. ‘You’re even paler than normal.’ 

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. What could he say? That he was sorry he couldn’t protect Jiraiya? Wouldn’t that make Tsunade feel responsible, too? She had more than proven herself - Orochimaru was gravely certain that without her, Jiraiya would be dead - but still. It was a fine line to walk, and guilt is a never-ending road. 

‘He’ll be okay, you know,’ Tsunade said. Her voice was pleasantly soft, and he leaned into it. She toyed with her necklace - a nervous tick - and he felt her eyes on him. 

‘I hope you’re right,’ Orochimaru whispered. ‘I hope you’re right more than anything in the whole world.’

He felt her hand - cold and clammy - grip his own, and he squeezed it probably a bit too hard. It was the first time Tsunade had ever initiated physical contact like that, and he suspected it was because she needed the support, too. But what Orochimaru really wanted was for someone to hold him, securing him in a long, comforting embrace, and tell him that, despite his mistakes, his friend would be just fine. He craved an emotional maturity that Tsunade could not muster. He wanted his mother. And he imagined that Jiraiya wanted his, too. 

‘It’s my fault,’ he murmured, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He clutched onto Tsunade’s little hand like it was the only thing he could hold. It felt like the world was tumbling away beneath his feet. He had never felt guilt before. He’d felt grief for his parents. Remorse, for the way he hurt Fumihiro. Worry for Tsunade, after seeing how Taichi treated her. But guilt? Guilt was foreign to him. 

‘Don’t say that,’ Tsunade said. He could feel her wince from his grip, but she didn’t pull away. ‘Don’t do that to yourself. You can’t blame yourself for the danger that crosses your path, or the people who fall into it. You...you did everything you could. We both did.’

Her voice wavered at the end, and Orochimaru cursed himself. He knew she was feeling guilty now. Because of his words. Because his feelings. Because of his failure. 

‘Did I, though?’ he said. ‘I’m supposed to be a prodigy, Tsunade. The class intellectual. A once in a generation genius. How - how can be any of those things if I can’t even protect one friend?’

Tsunade was quiet for a moment. Her hand felt sweaty and heavy, but he didn’t let go. 

‘I’m supposed to be a perfect clone of my grandfather, but I’m not,’ Tsunade replied. ‘But I’m still doing my absolute best. And you do too, Oro. You tried your best, right? You can’t be expected to do anything less, title or no title.’

‘But it’s not enough,’ Orochimaru said. ‘This level I’m at now...the jutsu I possess...it’s just not enough.’

‘Oro, we were fighting a pair of A-rank Shinobi!’ Tsunade said. He could hear her becoming exasperated - she always did have a short fuse. ‘And Sarutobi-sensei was fighting an S-rank! No Genin at our level could possibly defeat people like that - it’s a miracle we all survived, to be honest.’ 

‘Then how long will it take?’ Orochimaru said, withdrawing his hand from hers and clenching his fists. ‘How long will it take me to become that strong?’ 

‘That’s up to you, I guess,’ Tsunade said. She looked puzzled, worried, and frustrated. It was a lot to feel for one so young. 

‘I just…’ Orochimaru trailed off, swallowing hard. ‘I don’t want to lose anyone else important to me again. Not ever.’

‘You’re not going to lose Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said, her voice so full of conviction that he couldn’t help but believe her. It did nothing to stem his spiralling thought-process, though.

‘Maybe not today, but what about the next mission? There’s no guarantee that we’ll all survive this, in the world as it is,’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘I...I think that losing someone else I care about might ruin me for good.’

‘I know, I know,’ Tsunade said. ‘I know how you feel, truly I do. But you can’t live your life being constantly concerned about loss, and you can’t beat yourself like this every time someone you love gets hurt. It’s - it’s not healthy.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t understand,’ Orochimaru spat. 

‘Huh?’ Tsunade said, taken-aback at his change in tone. 

‘You’ve always been operating in another sphere entirely, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, anger surprising him as it boiled up his throat. 

‘What are you talking about?’

‘That you simply can’t understand what Jiraiya and I have lost. You have your happy little life, your family, your home. I have none of that, and Jiraiya only has his father. You - you could never understand this...this  _ pain  _ that I’m feeling right here in my chest,’ Orochimaru said, balling his fist in the front of his shirt and clutching the fabric. ‘What I want right now, more than anything, is to stop the cycle of loss. You can’t understand that because you haven’t lost anyone.’

He thought she might smack him the way she did Jiraiya when he overstepped the mark. He thought she might shout at him, argue that her grandfather’s loss was more than enough experience to comprehend what he was feeling, or run out of the hospital and never speak to him again. 

She did none of those things. Instead, he felt her arm fall around his shoulders, and it was after a moment of surprise that he realised she was hugging him. When was the last time he was hugged? Was it before his mother and father left for that deadly mission? His body went rigid, as if it had forgotten how to react to such a sincere touch. 

‘Oro,’ Tsunade whispered, holding him tightly, ‘I’m sorry. It’s fine to feel everything that you’re feeling, even if it hurts you. But please,  _ please  _ don’t carry everything on your shoulders. And I know that I - I can’t really understand what you’ve lost, but...that doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend.’

She pulled Orochimaru into her and hugged him with both arms, squeezing him like it was the last time she ever could. Orochimaru was quiet. He felt warm. The sensation was familiar to him, like some far off memory at the back of his mind was pulling its way forward with the effort of one hundred struggling men. He realised, as his eyes filled with tears, that it was like being hugged by a mother. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, and all at once he was crying. What for, exactly? He wasn’t sure. It might have been for his mistake, for the blood on Jiraiya’s shirt, for his harsh words to Tsunade. But deep down, he knew it was for his own private, personal, intense loss. He feared he’d never move on from the loss of his parents. The grief was supposed to lessen with time, but all it did was grow. Like a crippling void leeching off his light, the grief never left. It grew fat off the fleeting moments of happiness he had when he was with his friends, for he felt he didn’t deserve it. How dare he be happy, without them? How could he even begin to move on, when they were his world? How could he replace them, when they were irreplaceable?

Tsunade stroked his back as he cried into her. He gripped the back of her shirt, the fabric folding between the gaps of his fingers, and it was soft. He didn’t want to let go. She felt warm, too. Her body was small compared to his mother’s, but she was able to envelope him and make him feel safe. But even then - even then, in that moment of comfort, he felt despair. To compare Tsunade to his mother dishonoured what she was. No one could ever come close, and even though his tears were triggered by Jiraiya’s injury, he knew what they were really for. 

Because Orochimaru was wrong. He had felt guilt before. He felt guilty for being happy without his parents. 

*

Benjiro, to Jiraiya’s annoyance, had decided to sleep in the hospital room while his son recovered. He would make a full recovery - it turned out the poison wasn’t as potent or dangerous as Team 7 feared - but he was still stuck in bed for quite a while. Benjiro wanted to be by his side mainly because he was worried for him, but also to make sure he behaved. Jiraiya was rather taken with one of the medical-ninjas, a cheerful woman called Mayako, but was testing her good nature. Either way, Benjiro thought it best to keep an eye on his son. 

Meanwhile, someone else had his eye on Orochimaru. News of the boy’s exceptional prowess was spreading through Konoha like wildfire, and he was getting more and more attention. Everyone expected Tsunade to do well, but Orochimaru was virtually unknown. It was like he had sprung up out of nowhere, but that meant he attracted the wrong type of attention: particularly that of Danzo Shimura. 

When Orochimaru was making his way back from the hospital after visiting Jiraiya (who was relieved to have company other than his father), he sensed something. It was dark and empty in the side street he was heading down, and he immediately tensed. 

‘Who’s there?’ he asked. 

A dry chuckle followed footsteps, as Danzo slowly sauntered from the shadows.

‘I am impressed, young man,’ Danzo said. ‘Not many can sense my presence, especially a mere Genin.’

‘Maybe mask your breathing a little better next time, then,’ Orochimaru replied curtly. He was in no mood to converse with a stranger, especially someone like Danzo. His impatience was drowning out his usual social shyness, but that only seemed to spur Danzo on more. 

‘Such fire! You’ve been spending too much time around Princess Tsunade, I fear,’ Danzo said, walking closer to him. 

‘Right now I do not particularly want to spend time with anyone. Goodnight, Mr. Shimura,’ Orochimaru said. 

Danzo smiled. He was handsome in his youth, it was true, but his smile was a far cry from what anyone would call charming or approachable. ‘Now, don’t scarper so quickly, Orochimaru. I wish to speak with you.’

‘How do you know my name?’ 

‘Well, Hiruzen boasts about you daily, it must be said,’ Danzo sighed. ‘But even before that, I knew of you. Your outstanding performance at the Academy did not go unnoticed. And judging by your recent mission report, you and Princess Tsunade held your own against Shinobi of a much higher calibre than yours. It is a great shame about the other boy, but your skill and potential as a Shinobi is clearly etched out already.’ 

Orochimaru balled his fists at the reminder of the mission. ‘If I am such a skilled Shinobi, Jiraiya would not have gotten so injured. Set your sights elsewhere, Mr. Shimura. If you’re looking for a skilled Genin, go and seek out Tsunade.’

He tried to turn and walk away, but Danzo was in front of him in a flicker.

‘Just hold on one moment. I haven’t finished,’ Danzo said, an edge to his voice. ‘I am more than aware of Princess Tsunade’s potential, but her ties to the Hokage make it...difficult. It is you I am intrigued by, Orochimaru.’

‘What do you mean, her ties to the Hokage?’

‘It is complex to explain, but clearly you are sharp,’ Danzo continued. ‘You see, the Hokage, in all his wisdom and influence, has followed the path of his elder brother. Now, I would never insult the memory of Lord First or speak ill of him, but he feared great power. You are aware of the Forbidden Jutsu, are you not? The ones detailed on the Forbidden Scrolls?’

Orochimaru nodded, not liking where this was going. 

‘Chiharu-sensei mentioned them once. She made it very clear that they’re not to be discussed, let alone touched,’ Orochimaru said. 

‘That is the Senju way of thinking,’ Danzo said. ‘I am not saying it’s a bad thing - controlling power is important for stability, hence the offerings of the Tailed Beasts - but I, with the Hokage’s permission, am working to create a faction that serves Konoha’s interests through raw power.’ Of course, Tobirama had not officially given Danzo the go-ahead, but he was going about it regardless. 

‘What do you mean by that?’ Orochimaru asked. 

‘I am not saying I will take the Forbidden Jutsu, you understand,’ Danzo said, diplomatic as always. ‘I am merely saying I will grant a chosen few great power and influence, operating at the roots of the great tree that is Konoha. We would carry out missions in secrecy, that may seem unsavory for the more meek-hearted, in order to benefit the village. I am seeking out students with such potential to access this power and influence.’

Orochimaru nodded slowly, piecing together the information. ‘It all sounds terribly noble of you, Mr. Shimaru, but why are you telling me this? I’m only a Genin. You’d have better luck with higher ranking Shinobi.’

The reason was that accessing young and impressionable Shinobi, who were not yet enamoured by the Will of Fire and the Hokage, was because they were easy to manipulate. Danzo had no intention of following Tobirama’s wishes. While he would secure his permission, the secret faction he was planning would operate far away from the Hokage’s sight, if he could help it. As he had explained to Tobirama before he left for the mission that killed Kairi, he wanted to have a force that worked for Konoha rather than its figurehead. What he neglected to mention was that, if he didn’t personally acknowledge the Hokage as the best person for the job, he would undermine them. 

‘That is true,’ Danzo nodded, carefully leaving out his true motives. ‘But you have the potential to become a higher ranking Shinboi. What’s more, don’t you want power? After all, your precious friend and teammate was injured on your watch. Surely you want to make certain such an event will never happen again?’ 

It was cruel of Danzo to hit Orochimaru where it hurt, but he knew from Hiruzen how guilty and responsible the poor boy was feeling for Jiraiya’s injury. What better way to enrapture someone than manipulate them with their own failings?

‘I…’ Orochimaru trailed off, biting his lip. It was exactly what he wanted. Power to protect his friends. But truthfully, he didn’t trust Danzo as far as he could throw him, which made him very suspicious of his motives. Although he didn’t have to make a decision on the spot.

‘Just give it some thought and contact me if you wish for more information,’ Danzo said, sensing the boy’s hesitation. He patted him on the shoulder in a gesture that was probably meant to be reassuring, but it made Orochimaru cringe. 

‘I still don’t quite understand the purpose of it,’ Orochimaru said.

‘Purpose? Why, the purpose is simple,’ Danzo said. ‘It is the acquisition of power to defend Konoha.’

With that, he disappeared. Orochimaru didn’t move for a long while, mulling over Danzo’s request. He liked being a student under Hiruzen, it was true, and he adored working with his friends, but part of him was definitely curious about this ‘Root’ faction Danzo was attempting to formalise. Extra training wouldn’t hurt, would it? If anything, it would allow him to flourish even more. But still...Danzo emitted a bad energy. Tsunade didn’t like him, and Jiraiya was always less than civil when Hiruzen mentioned him. It was a tough call. 

*

‘I can’t believe I’m gonna turn 7 in the hospital,’ Jiraiya complained. ‘How lame is that?’

‘Oh, stop moaning,’ Tsunade said, arranging some flowers in a vase next to his bed. They most certainly weren’t from her, but from Mito, who was deeply concerned for him. Jiraiya had teased Tsunade about them, privately praying they were in fact a gesture of affection from her, but Tsunade had threatened to stuff them down his throat if he kept spreading such hideous rumours. 

‘I know, but Pa was gonna throw me a massive party!’ he said, folding his arms petulantly above the bed sheets. 

‘How can it be massive if you literally only have two friends?’ Tsunade said, pointing between herself and Orochimaru, who was brooding in the corner. 

‘I was planning on inviting the whole class, actually,’ Jiraiya pouted. 

‘Well they wouldn’t turn up.’ 

‘You don’t know that!’ Jiraiya said. ‘Akari was definitely giving me the eye a few weeks ago!’

‘That’s only because you’d sloshed soup down your front,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘She was staring at you in disgust, you idiot, not ‘giving you the eye’.’

‘Does being a jerk come naturally to you,  _ Princess _ , or do you have to work at it?’ Jiraiya hissed.

‘Don’t screw with me, you little runt,’ Tsunade snarled, grabbing the front of his unflattering hospital pyjamas. 

‘Will you two pipe down?’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘You’ve been like this all day. If you keep it up, I’ll stop coming.’

Tsunade released Jiraiya, but glowered at him resentfully. She had been trying to stay on Orochimaru’s good side - ever since he had broken down at the hospital a few days ago, he had been strangely off with her. When she asked her mother about it, Komako had simply said he might have been embarrassed for getting emotional. Either way, she wanted to appease him. Jiraiya did not follow a similar approach.

‘Sheesh,’ he said. ‘What’s got you so down in the dumps? Seriously, Oro, you’ve been all weirdly serious since we got back from the mission.’

‘It’s....I have a lot on mind, that’s all,’ he mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

‘Anything you wanna talk about? I have all day - it’s not like I’m going anywhere,’ Jiraiya said.

Orochimaru did not think it was wise to discuss Danzo’s proposition with them, so he just shook his head forlornly. 

Jiraiya and Tsunade exchanged a nervous look. While Orochimaru had always been a bit odd, they had never seen him so down. But before they could say anything, Benjiro entered the hospital room.

‘Okay!’ he beamed. ‘I just cleared things up with Dr. Mayako, and she said she’s happy to let us have a small gathering here! We’ve got the go-ahead to put up banners and balloons, and we’re even allowed to bring our food! But we can’t invite too many people, Jiraiya, so you’ll have to be selective.’

‘That won’t be an issue,’ Tsunade snorted. ‘He only has two friends his age, and we’re sitting in this room.’

‘Well I know who I definitely  _ won’t  _ be inviting if she keeps being such a brat,’ Jiraiya said, sticking out his tongue. 

‘It’ll be snooze without me,’ she shrugged. 

‘Now now, you two,’ Benjiro said sternly, ‘this is supposed to be a time of celebration. Besides, I’ll need Tsunade and Orochimaru to help me out if we’re going to get everything done on time.’

‘I can get my Grandmother to pitch in,’ Tsunade said. ‘For some reason, she actually likes spending time with Jiraiya.’

‘But if you get your family involved, there’s a risk your old fart of a dad will show up and ruin it,’ Jiraiya grumbled. ‘I mean, he messed up our meal out  _ and  _ your celebratory party, so I don’t want him catching wind of this and turning up like some sort of angry training demon.’

‘Angry training demon? What on earth are you on about?’ Benjiro spluttered. 

‘Taichi,’ Jiraiya said. ‘He’s gate-crashed every nice thing we’ve done as a group to make Tsu go and work on her training.’

‘There’s no danger of it happening tomorrow,’ Tsunade said. ‘He’s been far too busy with his new Team to bother about me these days.’ That was partly true - while Taichi still forced her to engage in nightly training exercises when she had better things to do, he didn’t harass her during the day. Grimly, Team Six were to thank for that. 

‘Well for your sake, I hope it lasts,’ Jiraiya replied.

‘In any case,’ Benjiro said, ‘it would be wonderful if Lady Uzumaki could help out, Tsunade. The more the merrier!’

‘She’s welcome on the day, too! So long as she brings cake,’ Jiraiya smiled. ‘That one she made at the celebratory party was the best!’

‘I’ll ask,’ Tsunade nodded.

As they started discussing the logistics of it, with Jiraiya getting more and more excited by the second, Orochimaru just watched them. He thought it was almost inappropriate to have a celebration during a war, and even more so since he was caught up in his own private dwellings. He had yet to talk to Jiraiya and apologise for not being able to save him. Tsunade told him not to bother, since Jiraiya was completely fine, but it still ate away at the back of his mind. 

Jiraiya’s birthday party was planned remarkably quickly, considering that Benjiro had his own duties to help with the war effort, and Mito was only given a day to make a cake. Tsunade’s job was inflating the balloons, but she got so light-headed from the number of times she had to puff them up, Benjiro made her take a break before she passed out. Jiraiya thought it was hilarious and made fun of her until she slapped him. Orochimaru, quietly, hung up some colorful bunting around the headboard of the hospital bed, and Mito helped him wind some lovely fairy lights around the metal frame the mattress was sat on. Benjiro found an old, rickety fold-up table in the attic of his house, and piled it high with all of Jiraiya’s favourite food. He left a big gap in the centre for the cake Mito had promised. 

The morning of the big day, Tsunade swung by Orochimaru’s so they could walk together. 

‘What did you end up getting him, Oro?’ she asked, feeling a little nervous. He had hardly said two words to her, and they were nearly at the hospital.

‘Hm? Oh - I wasn’t really sure what to get,’ he admitted. ‘I asked Sarutobi-sensei and Benjiro, but they were pretty much clueless, too. It’s the first time I’ve had to buy a birthday present for a friend, see.’

‘Oh,’ Tsunade said simply. She suddenly felt a bit awkward about the present she was carrying. Were they not meant to get him anything? They had been friends for over a year - surely it was appropriate by that point?

‘So I just got him this,’ Orochimaru said, fumbling in his jacket and pulling out something Tsunade recognised instantly. It was their Team photo - well, the unofficial one. For the purposes of data gathering, they had taken an official one, but the copy encased in a beautiful frame Orochimaru was holding was the ‘first attempt’. She and Jiraiya were both pulling ridiculous faces, while Hiruzen looked at them in pure exasperation. The nicest thing about it was that Orochimaru was smiling, caught mid-laugh with his eyes closed. 

‘I - there’s also a coupon for that barbecue place he likes so much slipped behind the photo,’ Orochimaru said anxiously. ‘I wasn’t sure if this was enough, but Benjiro said he only had the official one. Plus, I...I made the frame myself.’

If he was just about ready to die of embarrassment for such a sweet gesture, Tsunade didn’t notice.

‘You made this?’ she squawked, grabbing it from him so she could take a closer look. On inspection, she could see the blobs of glue holding together an intricate pattern of shells, all shining in white and blue. They sort of looked like tiny snake scales. 

‘Y-yeah,’ he replied, nibbling his lip. ‘Do you reckon it’s enough? I don’t have a lot of cash, so the coupon is sort of a back-up if the photo fell flat, you know?’

It was Tsunade’s turn to feel anxious. She now felt that her gift paled in comparison. 

‘Oro, he’ll love it,’ she said, deciding to support him instead of indulging in her worries. ‘First gift for a friend? Nailed it!’ 

She grinned at him, and chose not to tell him it was also the first time she’d bought a present for a friend, too. 

‘Thank goodness,’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘What did you decide on, in the end?’ 

‘Ah, you’ll see when Jiraiya opens it,’ Tsunade said, waving away his comment. 

Jiraiya, for his part, was sitting in the bed surrounded by bunches of wrapping paper. His eyes were alight with excitement and happiness - Benjiro had clearly spoiled him rotten. There were only two cards on the window sill, though; one from Benjiro himself, and the one from Tobirama. Well, it wasn’t  _ really  _ from Tobirama, but Hashirama had put a rule in place that every Shinobi, regardless of rank, would get a birthday card on behalf of Konoha. While he had painstakingly signed all of them himself, writing out heart-felt messages (that made even Mito, the love of his life, want to spew), Tobirama gave that responsibility to his underlings. A genetic ‘ _ To Jiraiya, Congratulations on your birthday. Sincerely, Lord Hokage _ ’ was written inside, but really, it was nice that Tobirama didn’t scrap the idea entirely. One way or another, every Leaf Shinobi would get an acknowledgement for their birthday. And for some of the loneliest of them, it was a true highlight. 

‘Hey, guys!’ Jiraiya beamed, as Tsunade and Orochimaru walked into the room. ‘You’ll never guess what Pa got me - look, look!’

Like an overexcited child (well, he  _ was  _ only seven), Jiraiya gathered up as many of the gifts he could fit into his arms and presented them to his friends. 

‘I finally got that personalised kunai I wanted! See, look here - it has my name engraved on it!’ Jiraiya said. 

‘That’s pretty neat. Pity you can’t throw it straight,’ Tsunade sighed.

‘And look!’ Jiraiya said, too enthusiastic to rise to her comment. ‘Pa got me the  _ entire  _ series of those kick-ass books about the Ninja,  _ Death Crash the Invincible _ !’ 

‘I didn’t know you could read,’ Tsunade said, her tone so deadly serious that Benjiro couldn’t help but chuckle, even if it was at the expense of his own son. 

‘Did - did you say  _ Death Crash the Invincible _ ?’ Orochimaru asked weakly. 

‘Hell yeah I did! They’re such awesome books, I’ll lend ‘em to you when I’ve finished up!’ 

‘Um, thanks,’ Orochimaru said, knowing full well he’d rather burn his eyes out than read such parodic and ridiculous literature. 

‘Oh, oh! And he got me this!’ Jiraiya said, scrambling in the shreds of scrunched up wrapping paper. He produced a little box, and inside were two khaki green rings.

‘They’re made of - say, what they made of again, Pa?’ he called, looking over at Benjiro, who was close to nodding off in the chair in the corner. After all, he’d been very busy organising everything.

‘Eh? Oh, they’re made of jade,’ Benjiro said, stifling a yawn. ‘And will you try not showing off so much, kiddo? Your friends are here to celebrate, not listen to you list off all your presents.’

‘Thing is,’ Jiraiya said, ignoring him, ‘that these rings are super cool. They get bigger in size, don’t they, Pa? The jeweller said they’re infused with chakra or something awesome like that, so no matter how big my hands get, they’ll always fit!’ 

Beaming, he held up his little hands to the glaring hospital light, and imagined a man’s hands. 

‘Why are there two? You inclined to lose them?’ Tsunade said. 

‘Nah. They come in pairs because one is for me, and the other is for the love of my life,’ Jiraiya said, surprisingly humbly. ‘That’s how the story goes, right?’

‘Indeed,’ Benjiro said. ‘You see, chakra-jade rocks are a precious stone intertwined with a rather beautiful and tragic legend. The story goes that, long ago, a great mountain separated two lovers who were from neighbouring clans. The clans were enemies - and the lovers were forbidden from seeing each other. But still, they worked night and day to reach the summit of the mountain that divided them so they could meet and profess their love. But, eventually, the journey took its toll on the man. One rainy night, he got lost in the mists and was never to be seen again. Distraught and heartbroken, it is told the woman used her immense power to split the mountain in half, infusing all the jade lying in the seams below with chakra. The clans joined together to benefit from the riches, and soon become allies. But the woman was doomed to misery without her lover. It is said that, on dark nights, her voice can be heard calling out in the mists, while her lover wanders aimlessly through them, forever searching for her hand.’

‘Goodness. You sure that isn’t a horror story?’ Tsunade shuddered. 

‘It might well be,’ Benjiro chuckled. ‘But the point is, such chakra-infused jade became popular. But jade rings - a symbol of the eternity of love - must be sold in pairs, so as to honour the two lovers and their grievous fate. I wear one myself, actually. The other...that’s buried with my wife.’

‘Wow,’ Tsunade breathed. ‘It’s quite beautiful, I think, that love can outlast.’

Benjiro smiled at her.  _ Since when did kids get so wise?  _

‘If you think it’s so beautiful, you can have the other one, Tsunade!’ Jiraiya said. 

‘Don’t tell me you’re professing your love,’ Tsunade snorted. 

Jiraiya felt his face redden. ‘A-and what if I was?’

Tsunade refrained from rolling her eyes. ‘Then I’d refuse, you blockhead. You’re way too young to know what professing love means, especially to me. We’re as bad as cats and dogs!’

‘Well, my wife and I were rather the same,’ Benjiro grinned. 

‘See!’ Jiraiya said. ‘It could totally work out, Tsunade!’

‘Put a sock in it before I throw those out the window,’ she muttered. She had no time for falsehoods, especially where Jiraiya was concerned. Sadly, she didn’t know that Jiraiya was, with all his heart, being honest. 

‘Here, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, noticing how crestfallen he looked. ‘It’s not much and I didn’t have any wrapping paper, but...happy birthday.’ 

Jiraiya didn’t even notice the intricacy of Orochimaru’s handmade gift, for he was far too enamoured with the barbecue coupon. 

‘Hey, nice one, Oro!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘This is perfect! When I get out of here, dinner is on me!’

‘Did you not even notice the frame?’ Tsunade tutted. ‘He made it from scratch.’

‘Well, not exactly from scratch - I bought a plain wooden frame and then I -’

‘ - you what?’ Jiraiya gasped, cutting him off. ‘That’s - that’s amazing man! No one has ever made something for me before! Come here!’

‘Jiraiya, Dr. Mayako said no strenuous activity!’ Benjiro yelped, as Jiraiya sprang up and caught Orochimaru in a one-armed hug.

‘Ah, it’s fine! I gotta appreciate my friends!’ Jiraiya laughed, ruffling Orochimaru’s hair.

‘He won’t be your friend for much longer if you keep manhandling him like that,’ Tsunade muttered. 

Orochimaru didn’t mind. The fleeting moments of affection he received, he cherished. 

‘Anyway, what did you get me, Tsunade?’ Jiraiya said, letting go of Orochimaru and holding out his hands expectantly. 

‘Jiraiya! Don’t be so rude!’ Benjiro groaned. 

‘Huh? Oh - well, compared to all your other gifts, it’s a bit...naff,’ Tsunade said. ‘Especially against those rings. They were a great idea.’

‘I can’t claim they were my idea entirely, to be honest,’ Benjiro smiled. ‘My wife always wanted him to have some, and I thought, given it’s his first birthday as a Genin, it would be suitable.’

‘C’mon, Tsu,’ Jiraiya said. ‘No need to be shy! I bet it’s an awesome present!’

‘You should be grateful that she got you anything at all, considering your history,’ Orochimaru sighed, as Tsunade offered him out a neatly wrapped present. It was very small, and Jiraiya looked at it curiously. 

‘Well, it’s not a wad of cash, that’s for sure,’ he said, peering at it.

‘What?’ Tsunade spluttered.

‘You guys are loaded, aren’t you?’ Jiraiya asked innocently. ‘I mean, you get paid a shed load for carrying out S-rank missions alone, so imagine the Hokage’s salary! It must be off the charts!’

‘It’s not  _ my  _ money though, is it?’ Tsunade said, as Benjiro put his face in his hands and groaned at Jiraiya’s rudeness. ‘Besides, giving someone cash isn’t much of a present.’

‘Does that include my coupon?’ Orochimaru piped up anxiously. 

‘No! No, the coupon was great,’ Tsunade said, patting his shoulder. 

‘What the heck is this?’ Jiraiya said, having unwrapped the gift. He squinted at it, bringing it up to the light and frowning. It was a little wooden toad. It was made of a light coloured wood, polished to perfection, and carved by hand - though it was a bit unprofessional in places.

‘It’s - it’s a toad,’ Tsunade said, feeling a little embarrassed. ‘My Grandfather used to make toys like that for me when I was small. He showed me how to whittle and stuff, but he had a massive advantage. He just used wood style to make his.’ 

‘Wait, you made this?’ Jiraiya said. ‘Both you guys  _ made  _ me stuff?’

‘Well, yeah,’ Tsunade said, putting her hands behind her back to hide the cuts where the knife had slipped. She was still learning how to do it - it made her feel close to Hashirama. 

‘I mean, it’s cute as hell, but why a toad?’ Jiraiya asked. 

‘I - I don’t know,’ Tsunade admitted. ‘I just thought it suited you, that’s all.’ 

‘Because he looks like one, or acts like one?’ Orochimaru said thoughtfully. 

‘Oi! Less abuse on my birthday, please!’ Jiraiya hissed. 

‘Come to think of it, you  _ do  _ sort of have a similar countenance to a toad,’ Tsunade smirked, putting her finger on her chin in mock thought. 

Jiraiya threw a pillow at her, and she threw it back much harder. 

‘You’ll pay for that!’ Jiraiya scowled, rubbing his reddened nose from the impact.

‘Instead of hurling bedding at me, you could say thanks for the gift!’ Tsunade huffed. ‘It took me  _ ages  _ to make that for you!’

‘Ages? Really?’ Jiraiya said. ‘But his facial features are all wonky - he kinda looks like an idiot.’

‘Well clearly I just took inspiration from you!’ Tsunade snarled. 

‘Hey! That is so uncalled for!’ 

Benjiro smiled to himself. Orochimaru was trying to quell Tsunade’s anger (to no avail), while Jiraiya had dived under the sheets to avoid her attacks and was shouting at her from beneath them. Yet it was obvious that the three kids cared for each other, despite their differences - Orochimaru was an orphaned prodigy with the social skills of half a breadstick and a weirdness that nearly made him unapproachable; Jiraiya was a loud-mouthed idiot with a tenacious itch to prove himself that boarded on annoying; and Tsunade was an out-of-touch Princess with an inflated sense of self-importance and enough insecurities for every resident in Konoha. But, one way or another, the misfits fit together. 

‘Knock knock!’ Mito said cheerfully, coming into the hospital room carrying a box. 

Jiraiya immediately appeared from beneath the sheets, beaming. 

‘Mito! Is that - is that the cake?’ he exclaimed.

‘It sure is, Jiraiya,’ she smiled. ‘Happy birthday. Now, let’s get those candles lit, shall we?’ 

The cake - which was a two-tiered chocolate cake reading  _ Happy Birthday _ \- was punctured with seven candles. With a great gust of breath, Jiraiya blew them out in one go. 

‘Ew,’ Tsunade said, dramatically wiping the corner of her eye. ‘You spat on me, Jiraiya.’

‘Did not!’

‘Did too!’

‘Tsuna, quiet down,’ Mito said. ‘This is Jiraiya’s big day, and we all want to enjoy the cake without you and your insistent bickering.’

‘Yeah,  _ Tsuna _ ,’ Jiraiya said gleefully. Tsunade glared at him. 

They were only one bite through their respective slices of cake when Jun came bowling through the door, sweat running down his forehead. 

‘Lady Uzumaki!’ he exclaimed, panting. 

‘Jun? Whatever is the matter?’ Mito said, startled. He had made them all jump from his sudden appearance - so much so that Jiraiya sucked his cake down the wrong way and was currently having his back slapped by Benjiro. 

‘Lord Hokage has - he’s leaving on  _ that  _ mission,’ Jun said, wiping his brow. ‘He, along with Hiruzen Sarutobi, Koharu Utatane, Homura Mitokado, Kagami Uchiha, Torifu Akimichi, Danzo Shimura, and Taichi Senju, are all preparing to leave right now!’ 

‘What? Already?’ Mito said, abandoning her plate.

‘Yes,’ Jun nodded frantically. ‘I was asked to summon you right away. As you’re aware, Lord Hokage hand picked his Escort Unit to aid him, but this...to leave so soon…’

‘The situation on the Front must be dire,’ Mito nodded. She turned to the future Sannin and Benjiro, who were looking at her apprehensively. 

‘Benjiro,’ she said, ‘I trust you know what this means?’

‘Y-yes, Lady Uzumaki,’ Benjiro said. The Shinobi Force had been told that, should Tobirama leave to fight, they would have to rally their own Teams to defend Konoha from any external threats. It also meant that the war effort was not working in Konoha’s favour.

‘Jiraiya, I am sorry to abandon your party so early,’ Mito said, sounding genuinely remorseful, ‘but pressing matters have arisen. I must go with Jun.’

‘No problem,’ Jiraiya said. He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he could tell from the palpable tension in the room, and the seriousness on all three of the adults’ faces, that something grave was underway. 

‘Tsuna, sweetheart,’ Mito said, offering her hand, ‘come with us. You must say goodbye and good luck to your Uncle and your father. They may be gone for a while.’

*

‘I trust you to hold the fort, Komako,’ Tobirama said, gripping his niece’s shoulder.

‘I still don’t understand why I can’t go with you!’ she protested. ‘No one on your Team has my medical expertise, nor my skills in taijutsu!’

‘Komako, calm down,’ Tobirama said. ‘Think rationally for a moment - I not only have my trusted Team with me, but Kagami. You know just as well as I how powerful the Uchiha can be, and despite my own personal feelings, I would trust that man with my life. I’d trust all of them with it.’

‘But I am the first Hokage’s daughter! I should be with you on this!’ Komako cried. She was red in the face with frustration and stress (and was therefore nearly a perfect match to the red hair she had inherited from Mito).

‘It is because you are my brother’s daughter that you must remain,’ Tobriama said, his voice serious. ‘Konoha needs someone to look to while I am away, and who better than my own flesh and blood?’

Komako shook her head. It was rare that she let her temper get the better of her - both Hashirama and Mito were gentle souls, usually. It was likely she had gotten her fire from Tobirama himself. 

‘I understand that, believe me, I do,’ she said. ‘But this - this is perhaps the most vital mission of the war! I want to stand with you, by your side, and fight! Do you think I’m not capable?’

‘Of course not,’ Tobirama replied. ‘You are one of the most skilled Jonin in the entire village, Komako, you know that. But you are also my precious family. I would never forgive myself should anything happen to you. After all, why do you think Konoha is fighting in the war, hm?’

‘Land, power, control, or all of the above?’ Komako replied impatiently. 

‘Perhaps. But primarily, Komako, we are fighting for our family, that family being every single inhabitant of Konoha,’ Tobirama said. ‘Hashirama lived his life for others, making sure to protect them. That’s why he built the village - protection, unity, and harmony. Those are the traits I am trying to preserve. And you, Komako,  _ you  _ are the beating heart of this village. You carry his Will. I could never put you in harm's way unless absolutely necessary.’

‘But -’

‘Silence yourself,’ Tobirama said, holding up a hand. ‘This matter is not up for discussion. I am putting you in charge during my absence - do not let me down.’

Pressing her lips together and trembling, Komako nodded stiffly. She knew there was little point in arguing with her Uncle. Had it been Hashirama, she might have a chance - he was made weak with puppy dog eyes in a matter of seconds. But Tobirama wielded an iron fist, and once he made up his mind, he would not change it. She was often surprised that he and Hashirama were brothers at all. 

‘Protect the village,’ Tobirama said firmly, ‘and make the best decisions you can.’

‘Tobirama!’ 

The pair of them turned and saw Mito, dragging Tsunade hastily by the arm, bursting through the door of the office.

‘Mito? Goodness, there’s no need to be in such a rush. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,’ Tobirama said, startled. 

‘I didn’t want to take any chances - not with Koharu and Homura tagging along, at any rate. Those two are absolute sticklers for time-keeping,’ Mito sighed. ‘Plus, Jun told me you would be leaving right away.’

‘Well, we are leaving very swiftly,’ Tobirama said, picking up his bag. ‘It’s a long journey to the border of Kumogakure, and no doubt we’ll encounter trouble en route.’

‘They won’t stand a chance, not with the Escort Team you’ve formed,’ Komako said. 

‘I wouldn’t be so certain. Kumogakure have produced some splendid Shinobi in the past, don’t forget. I, for one, won’t be letting my guard down,’ Tobirama said. 

There was a knock at the door, and Danzo and Taichi entered. 

‘Lord Second,’ Danzo said, ‘we are ready to depart. The others are stationed at the gate.’

Tobirama let out a long and weary sigh. He didn’t particularly want to leave Konoha, but the situation was grave, and he did not want to be seen as a Hokage who didn’t aid in the fighting effort. Whatsmore, he had had plenty of fighting experience - much more than his subordinates. It was the first war they would experience. He prayed it would be the last.

‘I truly thought all of this was over,’ Tobirama murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. He cast his gaze out of the window, and his eyes found the stoic look of Hashirama’s stone face. He always thought it funny how unlike his brother the Monument looked - it made him seem terribly stern and serious, which was nothing like his true self.

_ Well, brother, _ Tobirama thought,  _ it’s happening again. Should things go badly...I suppose I’ll see you on the other side. _

‘Very well. I shall make my departure,’ Tobirama said. 

He accepted a hug from Mito and Komako, but he was stiff as a board when it came to acknowledging physical affection (much like Orochimaru in that respect). But when Tsunade threw her arms around his waist, he couldn’t help but hug her back. 

‘Come along now, Tsuna,’ Tobirama said, when he heard her sniffling. ‘It’s not as bad as all that.’

‘I don’t want you to go,’ Tsunade mumbled into his stomach.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, he patted her softly on the head. ‘It can’t be helped. I am the Hokage, after all.’

Komako shared a rather awkward farewell exchange with Taichi, who merely looked impatient to leave. He barely gave Tsunade a second glance, but she didn’t notice. She was too busy clinging onto Tobirama’s hand.

‘Can’t I come with you? Sarutobi-sensei says I’m really talented for a Genin, so I’m certain I could be of help!’ she said, tugging his arm.

‘Like mother like daughter, eh?’ Tobirama said, raising his eyebrows at Komako. ‘Come now, little one. I can’t promise everything will run smoothly, but don’t forget - one doesn’t become the Hokage by lazing around. I am going today to help our fellow Shinobi. There isn’t a more noble cause than protecting someone you care about with all the strength you can muster.’

Tsunade sniffed, and rubbed her eyes. ‘You - you’ll be okay, right? All of you? Father and Sarutobi-sensei too?’ 

‘We’ll do our best. Now, I’ll see you when I get back, Tsuna,’ Tobirama said, giving her a rare smile and poking her gently on the nose. ‘Try and behave until then, alright?’

Mito, Komako and Tsunade followed them all the way to the front gate. As the Team assembled, Komako couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful. After all, a group made up of Team Tobirama and a selection of the most capable Jonins in Konoha would surely stand a good chance against anything the war could throw at them. Mito, on the other hand, was less optimistic. Try as she might, she couldn’t fight the feeling that something malicious was lying in wait along the road. 

Just before they left, Tobirama took a long, lingering look at Konoha. The Monument was peaking out above the skyline, and he felt an unexpected surge of pride at the sight of his face beside Hashirama’s. All they had built was flourishing right in front of him. As his eyes followed downwards, they fell on Tsunade. He had to doubletake. For a split second, he thought he could see Hashirama gazing back at him. A lump appeared in his throat, and he swallowed it thickly. It was unlike him to wallow in sentimentality, but sometimes, when the light was right, there were fleeting moments when Hashirama shone through her eyes. 

Tobirama bowed his head.  _ Ah, of course. I see it now more clearly than ever. We did splendidly, brother. You were right all along - things really did turn out well. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, I made myself sad with this one. For many, many reasons - Orochimaru's guilt, the HUGS, Tobirama saying goodbye to his family before leaving on his mission and thinking about Hashirama, and so on and so forth. Though it is particularly painful having Orochimaru saying Tsunade can't understand loss, while knowing what she ends up losing...sad stuff. But really freeing to write!  
> Next chapter, I'm going to try and detail Tobirama's mission. A lot happens if you're familiar with the canon, so it's going to be interesting - plus, fight scenes are notoriously tricky to write, but I'll do my best!  
> As always, thanks for the support - it makes me very happy to know there are fellow Sannin stans out there! And 10 chapters is a bit of a milestone if I do say so myself!


	11. A Competition in Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobirama makes the ultimate sacrifice, Danzo forms a dangerous alliance, and Jiraiya and Orochimaru try to comfort Tsunade.   
> This is the penultimate chapter of PART ONE: THE GENIN SAGA

Chapter Eleven - A Competition in Sacrifice

33 A.K (After Konoha)

‘We’re being pursued. I’m certain of it,’ Kagami Uchiha said. It was dark in the forest, and all of them were feeling fatigued from the efforts of fighting. They hadn’t had a proper rest in days, and tensions were running high, especially between Danzo and Hiruzen. It was purely one-sided, but Danzo’s obsession with being Hiruzen’s superior was beginning to get out of hand. 

‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ Hiruzen said. ‘After all, we left no survivors back there.’

‘They did the same to us,’ Homura said, gritting his teeth. The Unit had joined a group from Konoha in fending off a ruthless faction from Kumogakure, and Tobirama’s group were the only ones who made it out alive. Their shoes were damp with blood, and all were suffering from a lack of chakra. 

‘Pause here,’ Tobirama ordered. 

The Unit landed in a small clearing in the forest. They were panting, and both Taichi and Torifu Akimichi had sustained injuries. Grimacing, Taichi clutched his palm to a long slash in his side, courtesy of a particularly skilled Shinobi who favoured weapons mastery. 

‘You alright, Taichi?’ Hiruzen said, clapping his shoulder.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, ‘but the moment my being here becomes an issue, leave me. I will not be responsible for the failure of the mission.’

‘Nonsense. You think I could go back, look your family in the eye, and say I left you? Never gonna happen,’ Hiruzen grinned. 

‘Quiet, you two,’ Tobirama said. ‘I need a moment of concentration.’

Closing his eyes, Tobirama calmly placed two fingers against the earth. He was a sensory type ninja at heart, and while renowned as a powerful Shinobi and the creator of many exceptional jutsu, he was a sensor to the core, and had been since childhood. His ability allowed him to accurately deject the presence and location of targets in the surrounding area. And Kagami was right on the money - they were being followed. 

‘We’ve been surrounded,’ Tobirama said quietly. ‘There are...twenty of them. By their tracking abilities, and the massacre we left back there, I’d say they’re Cloud Ninja, likely sent by the Second Raikage himself. The highly skilled Kinkaku Force, no doubt.’

‘We’re only 8, including you, Lord Hokage. We’re outnumbered,’ Homura said. 

‘Stop being such a coward, Homura,’ Koharu snapped. ‘The enemy has yet to pinpoint our exact location, correct? We should wait and ambush them, then break through and escape. That way, we can rejoin our own forces and help them, which was the whole point of us being here in the first place.’

‘No, that’s not going to work,’ Kagami said, sharingan glaring red in the darkness. ‘The only way it would be successful would be if one of us acted as a decoy to misdirect them.’

‘But...to act as a lure? It means certain death,’ Torifu said heavily. 

‘There must be some other way, surely?’ Danzo said, anxiously looking around at his comrades. They were all crouched in front Tobirama, who had an unreadable expression on his face.

‘The Kinkaku Force is no joke,’ Torifu said. ‘We were always told to be wary of them, the moment the clash with Kumogakure began.’

‘Precisely. And like I said, they outnumber us,’ Homura said. ‘And before you say it, Koharu, that is not cowardice. It’s straight up fact.’

‘They might outnumber us, but that doesn’t mean they outclass us,’ Hiruzen said, clenching his fists. ‘I mean, Lord Hokage, you held your own against the Gold and Silver Brothers, did you not? Fighting this Kinkaku Force with all of us backing you up would be a cinch!’

‘I admire your faith in me, Saru,’ Tobirama said. ‘But it isn’t that simple. The Kinkaku Force are exceptionally skilled, and even if we were all at full power, I can’t imagine we’d be entirely successful against them.’

‘Then...what do we do?’ Kagami said. 

Taichi pressed his lips together. ‘We fight, of course. Even if we’re not entirely successful against them, as the Hokage put it, it’s a damn sight better than retreating with our tails between our legs.’

‘But fighting them would result in a greater number of deaths,’ Torifu said evenly. ‘Come on, Taichi, do the maths. What’s the point of losing so many of us against one sacrifice?’

Taichi’s fists tightened in his lap. ‘Honour and dignity, that’s what.’

‘You’d let your comrades die for the sake of such a thing?’ Torifu said. 

‘I’m trying to prevent that!’ Taichi said. 

‘Clearly you’re suffering from blood-loss, Taichi,’ Koharu sighed. ‘Don’t you see? Going up against them will result in _more_ deaths. There’s no way all of us would make it out alive. While I detest the idea, having one of us act as decoy is the only way the majority will survive.’

‘Besides, you’re not acting for honour and dignity,’ Kagami muttered. ‘You’re just trying to engage in an epic battle as a botched attempt to prove yourself, as always.’

‘Silence yourselves, all of you,’ Tobirama said sternly. ‘There is little point in debating what must be done. A decoy is the only way the rest can move forward and progress. Koharu is right - the most important thing is rejoining our forces.’

‘Then...who will it be?’ Torifu said, asking the heaviest question any of them could muster.

Silence fell over the group. Tobirama was surveying them all with narrowed eyes, his expression stoic and indecipherable. Of course, he knew the answer to Torifu’s question in an instant, but he was curious as to see who would volunteer. Perhaps it was cruel, to test them under such trying circumstances, but they were his disciples - and ultimately, his successors. They had fought well and as a team for the majority of their mission. If Taichi became too reckless, Hiruzen was always there to reign him in. If Homura hesitated, Koharu would give him a boot up the backside to push him forward. And if Torifu became overwhelmed, Kagami was there with his visual prowess to lessen the load. It was a Team of perfect balance - the only outlier was Danzo. Even compared to Taichi, who was not part of the three-man cells he and Hashirama had overseen, was able to cooperate when truly pushed, but Danzo? Danzo seemed to be operating on an entirely different playing field. He worried Tobirama, for he was the only man he couldn’t read. But whatever was going on in Danzo’s head at that crucial moment was obvious from the pained expression on his face.

_I want to volunteer,_ he was thinking, squeezing his eyes shut. _Sarutobi...what are you thinking right now? Do you have that sort of resolve? Do I? I’m saying it! I have to! Say it!_

‘I’ll do it!’

Hiruzen’s words settled like lead in the air. His eyes were burning with purpose and determination, and there wasn’t a hint of fear in his voice. This was bravery in its purest form. The others stared at him in shock, not knowing how to react. 

‘Don’t look like that, Danzo,’ Hiruzen said, offering an easy smile. ‘I’m leaving everyone to you, now.’

‘Shut up!’ Danzo shouted. ‘Stop - stop acting so cool by yourself! I’ll be the damn decoy! I wanted to! I -’

‘Danzo, quiet down or there won’t be a need for a decoy,’ Kagami hissed. ‘You’ll give away our location if you keep yelling like that!’

‘But I - I wanted to! I wanted to do it before Sarutobi!’ Danzo protested, his fists clenched. 

Tobirama sighed and shook his head. ‘Danzo...you’re always competing with Saru about something, aren’t you? But what we need right now is to unite as comrades in order to work together - don’t bring personal affairs into this.’

Danzo bowed his head, feeling the beginnings of shame.

‘The truth is,’ Tobirama continued, ‘your decision was too slow. You must first take a calm look within yourself to find who you really are. Right now, you’ll just put everyone at risk.’

Danzo felt like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Besides, who was he? Really? He didn’t think himself a coward, but he couldn’t even bring himself to volunteer to be the decoy. And the more he thought about it, his mantra of protecting Konoha from the shadows could be construed as cowardice. He wasn’t like Hiruzen - he wasn’t one for going all out on the battle-field. He was no hero. He certainly wasn’t Hokage material. 

‘Now,’ Tobirama said, ‘I’m going to be the decoy, obviously. After all, you are the young flames that will continue to protect Konoha with your Will of Fire - I will not allow a single flame to be extinguished here, least of all as a decoy.’

There was a delayed reaction. It wasn’t until Taichi leapt to his feet that the others even registered what Tobirama was insinuating.

‘You can’t!’ he cried. ‘You’re the Hokage! There’s no greater Shinobi in the village than you!’

‘I agree,’ Danzo said. ‘You can’t do this, Lord Hokage. Konoha needs you - we all need you. It’s not the Hokage’s job to sacrifice himself in this way.’

‘It is because I am the Hokage that I must,’ Tobirama said. ‘Even if I wasn’t, I’m not getting any younger. Reaching 55 is an extraordinary feat in this world, believe me - you are all still young. You embody the Will of Fire.’

‘But - but you do too, Lord Hokage,’ Torifu said, tears in his eyes. ‘We follow you because you are the embodiment of Lord First’s vision. We cannot let you do this.’

‘This is not up for discussion,’ Tobirama said, his voice cold.

‘You would leave your family?’ Danzo said, his tone accusing. 

A fleeting look of pain passed over Tobirama’s face. ‘They would know there was no other choice.’

‘But there is!’ Taichi protested. ‘Use one of us! We’re your subordinates, after all, and Sarutobi has already volunteered! We already lost Lord First, Hokage - we can’t lose you too.’

‘There is already a candidate to take over my role,’ Tobirama said. His eyes passed slowly over the group and fell on Hiruzen, who was staring at him with shining eyes. Tobirama was his sensei and his friend - the thought of him leaving them was deeply upsetting.

‘Saru...Protect those who love the village and those who believe in you. And take care of those whom you entrust the next generation to’ Tobirama said, his voice deep and clear. ‘Starting tomorrow, you will be the Hokage.’

Hiruzen’s eyes grew wide.

‘I’m leaving Konoha to you, Saru,’ Tobirama said, his hand passing over his head and gentle resting on it, like he used to do when Hiruzen was just a boy. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’

Hiruzen felt quite overcome. He willed himself not to cry, not now he was to be the Hokage. But if he was to be the Third Hokage, it would mean Tobirama would not be coming back. 

‘Y-yes, sensei!’ Hiruzen choked, throwing up his head to meet Tobirama’s eyes. 

The Second Hokage offered what might have been a smile in the right light. He nodded solemnly, before getting to his feet.

‘Listen to me, all of you,’ he said, as they started sniffling. ‘I can understand your feelings, and I appreciate them. But the moment the use of a decoy became clear, I knew there was no other way. Hokage or not, it would obviously be me.’

His subordinates looked at him, trying to prevent their tears from spilling over.

‘Torifu,’ Tobirama said, turning to him, ‘you have already more than proven yourself. I am certain you will continue to make your Clan one of the proudest in Konoha - so keep faith within yourself, and trust your instincts. You are a splendid Shinobi.’

Torifu was the first to break down after Tobirama’s words, and wailed quietly into his hands.

‘Kagami - I know I have not been kind to your kinsmen,’ Tobirama said, addressing the one Uchiha he trusted. ‘But you are living proof that the Uchiha can change. You carry the Will of Fire rather than the Cycle of Hatred, and I am certain that you and your predecessors will lead your noble Clan to the light. I leave them to you.’

‘Yes, Lord Hokage,’ Kagami said, bowing his head. It meant a lot to be acknowledged by someone who so despised his Clan. He hoped that, given time, he could change the way the Uchiha operated. 

‘Koharu, Homura,’ Tobirama continued. ‘You are my precious students, and I am proud of you both. You must use your skills to serve Konoha, and aid Hiruzen, to the best of your abilities. I trust your judgement wholeheartedly. And Danzo - I trust you to find your true place in the village. I understand your personal strife, but you must work to find what is truly in your heart. If you wish to serve Konoha, make sure it’s for the right reasons.’

The three of them nodded soberly. There wasn’t anything left to say.

‘Taichi,’ Tobirama said, his voice much sterner, ‘I sympathise with your anxieties of strength, but I implore you, think before you act. Strength is not everything. You must embody those values should you hope to become a man like Hashirama.’

Taichi shook his head. ‘Tobirama I...I can’t let you do this.’

‘You don’t have a choice,’ Tobirama replied calmly. ‘And one last thing - be gentler to your daughter. You have a duty to her as her father - put her in harm’s way, and you’ll only have yourself to blame. Which brings me to Saru.’

Hiruzen took a deep breath. The final words from his Sensei would be ones he’d carry forever. 

‘Saru, a testament to the trust I have in you is the fact that I put you in charge of Tsuna’s Team,’ Tobirama said. ‘I have faith that you will do everything to protect her, and by extension, Konoha. The rest is up to you.’

With that, Tobirama launched himself into the air, his feet glancing against the tree trunk, before he was fleeing through the dying light. 

‘This is ridiculous,’ Taichi growled. ‘We’re his Escort Unit! We’re meant to protect him!’

Wordlessly, Kagami took Taichi’s wrist, aware he might be hot-headed enough to run after Tobirama and give away their location. 

‘We have to let him go,’ Kagami said, his voice strained. 

‘But it’s - it’s not right,’ Taichi hissed, mistaking his grief for anger. ‘He’s the most important person in the whole village! He’s - he’s my family. He’s my wife’s...I can’t let him go. Not alone. I -’

Taichi was interrupted by Torifu standing swiftly to his feet and marching in front of him. His face was marred with streaks of tears, but he didn’t wipe them away. 

‘You heard him, Taichi,’ he sniffed. ‘You have a duty to your daughter to stay alive. And, if I am speaking plainly, we all know that Lord Second would never let his subordinates take a risk he could take himself. It’s just not in his nature.’

Taichi pressed his lips together. ‘But…’

‘No buts,’ Koharu said, getting to her feet too. ‘We just lost our Sensei, Taichi. We can’t let the opportunity he gave us slip through our fingers.’

‘Agreed,’ Homura nodded. ‘We must move, and move swiftly.’

All the meanwhile, Hiruzen had gazed until Tobirama’s blue figure disappeared through the darkening trees. It was an image that would haunt him for years to come - his silhouette getting smaller and smaller against the branches, until his white hair was drenched in shadows. It was last time he would see his Sensei alive, rather than Reanimated. Of course, Hiruzen had no idea he’d meet Tobirama again. So, at that moment, as he vanished from their view, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right thing to do. 

*

_This is for the best_ , Tobirama thought, as he raced through the trees. He could sense the Unit pursuing him - all twenty of them - and he hated to admit that he was feeling the beginnings of Chakra depletion. He was fairly certain that, in his fittest state, he would be able to take on all of them and win. But time and effort had taken its toll.

_I never imagined it would end like this, brother_ , Tobirama thought to himself. _Perhaps I am a coward to wish I too would die in my bed, surrounded by our family. But I can’t deny that dying alone frightens me. Does that make me weak, I wonder? I can’t imagine father would be too impressed by my feelings, but he never was too impressed by the two of us, was he?_

A kunai propelled by lightning shot towards him out of his peripheral vision. He dodged it with ease, changing his course slightly. They were close. Good. It gave the Escort Unit a chance to escape. 

_Saru will get them all out, I know it. I can imagine how thrilled you’d be, brother, knowing young Saru is my predecessor. I suppose we always knew it would be him, didn’t we? He was one of the first to graduate from the Academy system I devised, and he stood out from the beginning. I suppose that’s why I took him in, isn’t it?_

Another kunai, followed by more powerful and unruly flickers of lightning chased after him. It was just child’s play at that point; Tobirama reckoned they were merely trying to gauge his skillset and whether or not he was alone. They’d have a nasty surprise, finding the Second Hokage of Konoha waiting for them. If he weren’t so serious, Tobirama might have smirked at the thought of such a shock. 

_This is what you would have done, brother, so I know it’s the correct course of action. While Konoha may be my priority, it is nothing without its young flames - and besides, I have left it in a pair of steady hands._

They were too close for comfort, now. Tobirama at least had the luxury of deciding his battlefield, so when he spotted a clearing by a river, he switched course and headed towards it. The naturally occurring water would complement his water style jutsu well, and even though he knew he could not win, he would at least do some damage. 

_Not just Saru’s hands, you know. I needn’t tell you that the next generation is already flourishing. I have high hopes for Tsuna’s graduating year group - you’d be very impressed by them all, brother, even the dunces - and I have even higher hopes for Tsuna herself. The friends she’s made are no exception. Yes...Jiraiya, Orochimaru, and Tsunade...I think we can expect great things from them, brother._

He landed with a soft thump by the water, and straightened up, shifting in his armour. It had seen so many battles. _Countless battles_ , he thought. His life was a patchwork of blood and violence. It was worth it, though. Now he knew what had been brewing at the end of all his strife, he truly believed it was worth every single sweep of his sword. 

_Should I be afraid to die? I...I certainly don’t want to leave them. Our family. Not just our Clan, but any of them. I wished to see Saru don the hat, to see Koharu and Homura grow and develop into even finer Shinobi. I wished to see Kagami transform the Uchiha Clan. I wished - forgive me. There’s little hope in wishing for a future that will remain unspent. For now, I ought to focus. This...will be my last battle. How many times have I crossed blades, Hashirama? A hundred? A thousand? I suppose we can never know. I wish our lives hadn’t been so hard. I wish - see, there I go again. Did you replay wishes in your mind before you slipped away? Did you think of him? Madara Uchiha? Or did you simply mourn the loss of a future with Mito and your family? Isn’t it odd, how we mourn for the things that have never been?_

There was movement behind him. With a deep breath, Tobirama turned to face the enemy and drew his sword.

_I’m sorry, Tsuna. I suppose I won’t see you when I get back, after all._

The Kinkaku Force did indeed look shocked at the presence of the Second Hokage, but did not run. Tobirama had to give them respect for that. 

‘This is the end, brother,’ he murmured, readying himself for battle. ‘Well...let’s make it a glorious one, then.’ 

_*_

‘You need to tell them, Hiruzen,’ Koharu said, her voice hoarse with exhaustion and grief. ‘Goodness knows Taichi isn’t the man to do it. He hasn’t said a word since we arrived back.’

‘He’s in shock,’ Homura said plainly. 

‘He’s not the only one,’ Hiruzen mumbled. The three of them were in the Hokage office, and Hiruzen was running a hand over the surface of the desk. Was it truly to be his? It didn’t feel right. He felt a wave of emotion hit him when his fingertips brushed over the unfinished paperwork on the surface. Everything there was just...left. Remnants of a life spent. There was even half a cup of tea still sat to the left, next to a photograph of all of his brothers when they were young. It is painfully strange, to think our most treasured possessions are left while we go on without them. A favourite book, marred with thumb prints and folds; a lucky kunai, blunted from force and shiny from wear; or even a necklace, that would go on to be inherited by those who shared the same dream.

‘I can’t do this,’ Hiruzen whispered. 

He felt Koharu move behind him and take his hand. They were roughened from years of training and combat, and cold with grief.

‘You can, Hiruzen,’ Koharu said softly. ‘You were his precious student. You’re the only one who can.’

‘It...it shouldn’t have ended like this,’ he choked, feeling heat rise up his throat. ‘I wanted him to be here, the day I took up the mantle. I wanted...I wanted him to stand here, where I am now, and talk me through everything. To show me the ropes. To show me how to...how to be the Hokage.’

Koharu’s hand tightened in his. He didn’t need to see her to know she was crying. 

‘Tobirama-sensei had nothing but faith in you, Hiruzen,’ Homura said, coming forward and laying a hand on his shoulder. ‘We all do. But right now, you cannot afford to break down. Your first duty as Hokage is to tell them. Koharu is right - they can’t hear it from Taichi. It has to be you...Lord Third.’

Hiruzen bristled at the name. It felt awkward and heavy in the air, like the title didn’t belong to him. But his teammates were right - the news would start spreading soon enough, and he couldn’t bear it if they found out by accident. Sniffing, he stood up straighter. 

‘Okay,’ he said, wiping his eyes. ‘Can you summon Mito and Komako for me, Homura?’

‘What about Princess Tsunade?’ he asked.

Hiruzen gave them a watery smile, and wiped his eyes. ‘Truly? I don’t think I’m strong enough to look her in the eyes and tell her that he’s gone.’

In the end, that unfortunate duty fell on Mito’s shoulders. Komako was too distraught - Tobirama was all she had left of her father, Hashirama - and Taichi hadn’t been seen since they returned. Danzo volunteered to locate him, but had yet to report back. Mito was a strong woman, a Jinchuriki, an Uzumaki, but telling her six year-old granddaughter that another member of their family had died would take a lot more than just strength. 

But in the end, she didn’t have to tell her. When she knocked on the door of Tsunade’s bedroom and entered, the girl had already worked it out. _Was it the look on my face?_ Mito wondered, suddenly worried her eyes were swollen from tears. But it didn’t matter. Tsunade knew.

‘He’s not coming back, is he?’ she whispered, perched on the edge of her bed.

Silently, Mito shook her head. What was there to say? 

*

‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Danzo said, arriving on the top of the Hokage Monument. ‘But really, running off when your family needs you is incredibly immature even for you, Taichi.’

‘Leave me, Danzo. I have no desire to talk with any of you at the moment,’ Taichi muttered. 

‘I understand you’re grieving, but I want to discuss something with you,’ Danzo said, sitting next to him and throwing his legs over the edge of the Monument.

‘What, you’re not here to drag me back to the Mansion?’ Taichi scoffed. ‘I would have thought _Lord Third_ would want me to be with Komako right now.’

‘I have no desire to know what Sarutobi is thinking, to be honest,’ Danzo said lightly. 

Taichi looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

‘You’re unsatisfied with his appointment?’ he asked.

Danzo smirked. ‘What gave it away?’

‘I know you seek power, Danzo. Don’t forget, your father was my Academy Sensei - I know just how much value you Shimura folk place on power.’

‘That is true,’ Danzo said evenly. ‘Though even I admit my late father went about it in the wrong way.’

‘How so?’

Danzo grimaced darkly. ‘He operated in direct view of the Hokage. Should one aim for change, one ought to attempt it away from the prying eyes of the village leader so cemented in the ways of old.’

‘You almost speak treason,’ Taichi said. ‘Don’t forget, Danzo, I am part of the late Hokage’s very own clan. I’d watch your mouth if I were you.’

‘Funny,’ Danzo said, ‘Lord Second once said a similar thing. And trust me when I say I wish not to act against the wishes of the Hokage, only to aid him from the shadows. Though I must admit the task is harder now Sarutobi is in charge. I’m not concerned to admit that his obsession with peace could endanger the village.’ 

Taichi’s interest was piqued. ‘How so?’

Danzo folded his hands in his lap, and gazed over the colourful rooftops of the village. ‘You must remember that I know Sarutobi of old. He means well, that much is true, but I can’t sit here and say his methods will foster a secure future for Konoha. He’d trade power for peace in a heartbeat, and I don’t agree with that mentality. Power maintains peace, not the other way around. Power is deterrence. If we appear strong, our enemies dare not attack us, which secures peace. Sarutobi sees power as an invitation of war.’

‘An invitation? What do you mean?’

‘Perhaps invitation is the wrong word,’ Danzo said. ‘He views it more as a dare to challenge. You see, Sarutobi fears power. Always has. He sees it as a weapon of destructive encouragement, rather than as a tool for fostering peace. Appear weak, and our enemies will attack us from every corner. Appear strong, and no one would dare rise up against us.’

Taichi was quiet for a moment. ‘I understand. And personally, I agree. I spent enough time with Lord First to realise he too feared power, even though he was powerful himself. Even Tobirama grew softer after Hashirama’s death. I can see Hiruzen going the same way.’

‘Which brings me on to my proposition,’ Danzo said, eyes glinting. ‘I can see you are a wise man, Taichi. You have already seen first hand the dangers of a festering mentality that fears power. You need only look at your own family to see that.’

‘True,’ Taichi muttered. ‘All I’ve done is try to make Tsuna stronger, and her mother more active. And yet all I get in return is disdain from them, and patronisation from Tobirama. Did you know he tried to lecture me about how I raise my own daughter? He thinks I’m too harsh. What he doesn’t realise is that I don’t want her going down the path of weakness.’

‘You are a dutiful father, clearly,’ Danzo nodded. He decided to let Taichi talk. After all, the best persuasion tactic is to get people to persuade themselves.

‘I feel I have been painted as the villain for trying to fashion her into a strong Shinobi,’ Taichi said. ‘Goodness knows she’ll resent me even more now Tobirama is gone. But she doesn’t understand. None of them do.’

‘Understand what?’

Taichi clenched his fists. ‘I saw my parents die right in front of me,’ he said, his voice wavering. ‘I witnessed my best friend get obliterated on the spot on my first Chuunin mission. I sat and watched as Lord First, a man I believed embodied power, fade away to dust. And recently, I stood by as Kairi was torn to shreds. I... I don’t want that happening to my family, especially not to Tsuna and Nawaki. They are my children. I refuse to let them slip through my fingers like everyone else.’ 

‘I understand your feelings,’ Danzo said. ‘Truly, you are a man at odds. You have been shunned for being too harsh, but really, is this world not a harsh one? You are right to prepare your children to face it. Whatever decisions you make, brutal or not, must be the right ones.’ 

‘I think you’re the only one who believes that, Danzo.’

Danzo sighed. ‘Well, it’s my way of thinking. Lord Second told me to find my place in this village, and I believe I have - though my philosophy clashes with Sarutobi’s. It will not be easy.’

‘What are you plotting?’

Danzo, choosing his words carefully, explained the purpose of Root. He essentially regurgitated the speech he gave to Orochimaru, but changed it slightly to appeal to Taichi’s warped sense of duty. Having him on board would be a big advantage - both his position as an honorary Senju and a Jonin would improve Root’s prospects exponentially. 

‘So,’ Danzo said, once he’d finished his piece, ‘what say you, Taichi?’

Taichi’s face morphed into an unpleasant smile. ‘I think you’re onto something. I am more than happy to aid you in all your endeavours.’ 

*

The next day, a formal announcement was made to the village. Hiruzen’s inauguration ceremony would be in the next few weeks, a respectable period after Tobirama’s funeral. Koharu and Homura had both tried to persuade him to abandon his Team 7, now he had more pressing duties, but he had point-blank refused. In his words, _there’s no way I’m leaving those kids now. Not after this_. 

Speaking of those kids, Orochimaru and Jiraiya made the decision to visit the Mansion in the afternoon following the announcement. Benjiro had told his son to leave Tsunade be, since she would almost certainly wish to grieve privately with her family and having visitors wasn’t the best thing for her, but Jiraiya ignored him. He was under the distinct impression that the best thing for her would be a distraction. So, after he’d gotten over the shock of Tobirama’s death and shed a few tears in the privacy of his bedroom, he went round to Orochimaru’s and grabbed him by the hand. Orochimaru’s eyes were red with tears, but Jiraiya didn’t comment. Seeing a dry eye in Konoha after the announcement was about as likely as spotting a flying pig. 

They made their way through the Mansion, which was bustling with tearful Shinobi preparing for the great change, and passed through the private courtyard of the Senju wing that led to the main door. The whole place was totally devoid of activity, which was quite jarring, considering the Mansion was a buzzing hub of movement. Swallowing thickly, Jiraiya knocked on the wooden door, adorned with the Senju Clan’s insignia, and waited. 

It was Mito who answered the door. She was looking drained, Nawaki toddling about her ankles, and strands of her red hair were falling over her face. She looked relatively surprised to see the two young Genin staring up at her with wide eyes. She managed a smile.

‘Jiraiya, Orochimaru. It’s good to see you both,’ she said. ‘Are you here to see Tsuna?’

‘Yes, if that’s alright. We thought she could do with a pick-me-up,’ Jiraiya said. ‘We’re both very sorry for your loss, though, Mito.’

‘Thank you. And of course, you’re welcome to come in. Though you’d best be quick – Tsuna has a training session with her father soon.’

‘He’s really making her train at a time like this?’ Orochimaru said uncertainly, taking off his shoes.

Mito didn’t say anything, but pressed her lips together.

‘Big brother Jiraiya!’ Nawaki beamed, tripping over his little feet to greet him.

‘Hey there, little buddy,’ Jiraiya smiled, patting him on the head. ‘You holding up alright?’

The boy’s face screwed up into a confused grimace. ‘Yeah. Granny said that Uncle won’t be coming back, though. Makes me sad. I liked to play with his white hair. But you have that hair, too! Can I play with it sometime, big bro?’

Jiraiya smiled. ‘Sure you can, little buddy. But right now, you gotta be super-duper strong and look after your family, alright? We can play later. Besides, I’m here to see your big sister right now.’

‘Well, she’s being all stroppy. She won’t come out a play,’ Nawaki pouted.

‘Nawaki,’ Mito sighed, shaking her head, ‘Tsuna will play with you another time, alright? She’ll want to see her friends now.’

She pointed down the wooden corridor to Tsunade’s room. Jiraiya gulped. He’d never been inside a girl’s room before.

‘Oh, get a grip,’ Orochimaru muttered, as if sensing what Jiraiya was thinking. ‘We’re here to support her, so get your head out the gutter and pull yourself together.’

He held up a pale hand and knocked on the door. ‘Tsu? It’s us. Me and Jiraiya. Can we come in?’

There was movement from inside. The door opened a crack, and Tsunade’s face appeared between the space. She was pale and looked tired. Orochimaru felt a pang for her immediately – he knew what grief looked like, and it was clearly painted on her face.

‘What do you two want? Has Sarutobi-sensei summoned us?’ she asked, her voice soft.

‘N-no,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘We just…came to see if you were alright.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Jiraiya decided, barging past her and going into her room. ‘And we’re here to cheer you up whether you like it or not. Besides, Mito let us in, so if you have an issue, take it up with her.’

Tsunade glared at him, pursed lipped, as he sat on her bed, looking around her room.

‘Blimey. Your room is nearly the size of my entire house,’ he said, gawking around with large eyes. ‘Aha! Glad to see my picture is right by your bedside!’

‘Get off my bed, you moron,’ Tsunade ordered, as Jiraiya pointed gleefully at the picture of Team 7 she had framed.

‘Aw, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. I was only teasing,’ he grinned. ‘Still, this place is dead swanky, Tsunade. Next time we have a sleepover, I know where to come!’

‘You really think my mother would let the likes of you within 10 miles of my bedroom?’ she scoffed. ‘In your dreams, Jiraiya.’

‘More like in _your_ dreams, Tsu - after all, you drift off to sleep gazing at my face every night!’ Jiraiya grinned.

Tsunade grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be a paperweight, and threw it at his head.

‘Hey!’ Jiraiya shrieked, just about dodging it. ‘Don’t throw stuff that could actually do me damage!’

‘Anything can do damage if you throw it hard enough,’ she growled. ‘Don’t forget, I made your nose bleed with that pillow I hit you with.’

‘Violence is nothing to proud of. It’s unbecoming of a Princess,’ Jiraiya said haughtily, knowing how much such an insinuation irritated her.

‘What did you say, you pesky little runt?’ she snarled.

‘That temper is pretty improper, too. You’d best learn to bite your tongue,’ Jiraiya grinned.

‘I’ll make you bite your tongue in a minute,’ Tsunade snapped.

‘I’d like to see you try!’ Jiraiya jeered.

‘You really wanna put it to the test?’ she shot back, grabbing a broom and aiming the stick at him like a katana.

Jiraiya gulped. ‘Er, on second thoughts, let’s keep the violence for our training sessions, shall we?’

As Tsunade began boasting her victory, Orochimaru made a mental note to thank Jiraiya for his efforts. It was obvious to him that the knuckle-headed idiot was purposefully winding Tsunade up to elicit a petty little argument. Because their arguments were normal. And if there was one thing Tsunade needed, it was normality. It was then, however, that Orochimaru noticed she was limping slightly.

‘Are you quite alright, Tsunade?’ he asked tentatively.

‘Of course not,’ she snapped. ‘My uncle just died, and now some idiot is invading the privacy of my room, which is the only place I ever get a damn bit of peace.’

‘I meant your leg,’ Orochimaru said, keeping a cool head. ‘You’re walking funny.’

Tsunade let out a long sigh. ‘Oh, that? It’s nothing to worry about. Just pulled something when I was training with my father.’

‘You, getting injured training with your crazed lunatic of a father? I’ll contain my amazement,’ Jiraiya said sarcastically.

‘Shut up, Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said stiffly. ‘It’s not like I have much of a choice in the matter. He’s obsessed with me learning wood style.’

‘That fills me with confidence, that does.’

‘In any case,’ Orochimaru said, before Tsunade could reply, ‘we really came along today to make sure you and your family are doing alright. I mean, as much as it’s painful for all of us to lose the Hokage, he was a member of your family. I can imagine how difficult it is for all of you.’

Tsunade’s face fell, and she flumped down on the edge of the bed next to Jiraiya. ‘Yeah. It really sucks, to be honest. I’m trying to be brave and all that, but it’s hard. Mother has shut herself away, you know what my father is like, and Grandmother is too caught up running around after Nawaki these days. I know we’ve only lost Uncle Tobirama, but…but it sort of feels like I’m losing all of them. It’s only been a day, but so much has changed.’

‘Well, you’re always welcome round my place for a meal if you need somewhere to escape,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Pa thinks you’re a good influence on me, or something ridiculous like that, so he’d be totally happy to have you. Besides, Oro is already around most nights, so what difference does another person make, eh?’

Tsunade couldn’t help but smile as Jiraiya nudged her affectionately. He was an idiot, that much was true, but he did have a kind heart.

‘Thanks, Jiraiya. I’ll probably take you up on that,’ she replied. ‘It’s just…the worst part is I still think he’s coming back. Whenever I hear the door open, I keep thinking that it’s him. They can’t go and retrieve his body, so I… can’t help but wonder if he’s actually gone. And sometimes, I swear I can hear his footsteps down the corridor, or his voice just escaping my ears. The house moves differently now there’s less of us in it, but I still…I still think I’m going to find him, sitting there at the kitchen table.’

Tsunade sniffed, trying to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of Jiraiya – he’d have ammunition for life if she did. Of course, Jiraiya would never actually tease her about such a thing, but she didn’t quite trust in his emotional maturity.

‘I know what you mean,’ Orochimaru said quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. ‘My parents were never recovered. They buried empty coffins filled with soil. I try with everything I have to accept that they’re gone, but without them being buried, a part of me will always feel like they’re coming home.’

‘How…how do you move on?’ Tsunade mumbled dejectedly.

Orochimaru sighed. ‘Truly? I don’t think you ever do. The grief never gets any smaller, but life grows around it. The more you do, Tsunade, and the more you feel, the bigger your life will get. He’ll always be there in the back of your mind, and you won’t forget him, but…but things will get easier. One day at a time.’

Finally, Tsunade succumbed to her emotions and felt tears fall freely down her face. Quietly, Jiraiya put his arm around her and allowed her to turn her face into the crook of his shoulder. Orochimaru kept hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly and hoping his condolences would reach her through such a simple gesture. He was trying to return the favour – after all, she had comforted him in the hospital – but it was hard, because he felt like crying himself. To see his friend, the first person who had truly accepted him, seem so upset, was making his heart feel as if it might split in half.

_That’s it,_ he thought. _That’s it. I won’t allow a single person I love to experience loss like this ever again. It’s time to get serious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I kind of hate this chapter. It was so hard to write and I really struggled incorporating the canon with my own creative choices - that's why it's taken quite a while to finish. I hope you like it more than I do...please tell me what you think. I think I just found it hard to write a canonical event and keep it interesting, you know?  
> Also I just wanna say, while Danzo thinks Taichi is being a 'reasonable' father, I obviously do not share his views. I am trying to make Taichi multi-dimensional for an interesting read, but let's be real, he's a nasty piece of work!


	12. A Brief Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiruzen adjusts to his new role as Hokage, and the Sannin embark on their own paths.

Chapter Twelve: A Brief Farewell 

Date: 33 A.K (After Konoha)

Jiraiya sized himself up in the mirror. He didn’t like wearing smart clothes. They made him look all stiff and proper, which couldn’t be further from the truth. But it’s not every day one’s Sensei is anointed as the Hokage, so Jiraiya figured he’d best put in the effort.

Benjiro poked his head round the door, also donned in smart robes. He had polished his forehead protector as well as Jiraiya’s, and offered it out to him.

‘You ready, son?’ he asked, as Jiraiya tied it around his head and made sure the gleaming head-piece was front and centre.

‘As I’ll ever be, I guess. Can’t say I’m much looking forward to it,’ he mumbled.

‘Why ever not? It’s a momentous occasion!’ Benjiro said, ruffling Jiraiya’s spiky hair. Jiraiya batted him off and tried to smooth down his untamed locks.

‘Pa, it took me like 20 minutes to do my hair!’ he grumbled. ‘And yeah, it’s cool and everything, but it’s just another reminder that Lord Second has kicked the bucket, you know?’

Benjiro sighed. ‘Yes, I know. But times change and they always will, Jiraiya. We cannot mourn him forever – and the village needs stability. Especially in this time of war.’

‘Do you reckon it’ll last for much longer?’

‘The war? Who knows,’ Benjiro said soberly. ‘Though I think the majority of the fighting has petered out. After all, every side has suffered severe losses. Apparently, Lord Second managed to wipe out half of the Kinkaku Force, and injured the others. I doubt Kumogakure will be so eager to attack any time soon, not now their strongest unit has been so badly damaged.’

‘Wow,’ Jiraiya breathed. ‘The Second Hokage was a really awesome ninja, huh?’

‘Indeed, he was. And I have no doubt that young Sarutobi will follow in his footsteps,’ Benjiro smiled. He genuinely believed it to be so – despite the fact that Hiruzen was only 25 years old, there were few who doubted his prowess. He had more than proven himself time and time again, and with more experienced Shinobi guiding him from their positions on the Council, Benjiro had hope that Konoha would flourish. Though, for now, it should be allowed to wilt; the loss of a Hokage is a hard burden.

Jiraiya and Benjiro headed to the grounds outside the Mansion and picked up Orochimaru on the way. He was wearing a silken purple robe that had belonged to his mother, and Jiraiya was quick to immaturely tease him for it.

‘You look like such a girl, Oro,’ he smirked.

‘Jiraiya!’ Benjiro hissed, cuffing him around the ears.

‘No, it’s alright,’ Orochimaru said, shrugging. ‘Besides, I take it as a compliment – you don’t have to look far to find strong Kunoichi, after all. And I’m not one for letting my clothing dictate my gender.’

‘Goodness,’ Benjiro said, ‘that’s rather mature of you, Orochimaru.’

‘I was taught that way,’ he replied. That much was true – Orochimaru’s parents had never raised him to conform to certain gendered practises, and as a result, he didn’t bother to work hard to appear male or female. It was a trait that remained with him as he grew up. To be honest, he had more important things to wonder about – such as Danzo’s offer to join the up-and-coming Root. The idea of gaining such power still burned in the back of Orochimaru’s mind, especially after his recent assertion about preventing loss. Still, he had yet to make his move. There was still much to consider.

The three of them managed to get a good spot, with a central view of the roof where Hiruzen would address the village. They could already see him up there, in his white robes, conversing closely with Mito.

‘Is Tsunade up there, too?’ Jiraiya said, craning his neck.

‘She is, yes,’ Orochimaru said, pointing. ‘Her whole family, I think. Though I can’t see Nawaki.’

‘He’s a bit too young to be involved in such a prestigious affair, I suspect,’ Benjiro said.

‘I’ll say,’ Jiraiya sighed. ‘Knowing that little rascal, he’d probably find a way to climb down onto the roof slates on the side and fall off.’

‘Well, that would certainly make the event more entertaining.’

Jiraiya turned around to find Hiromichi, the Uchiha who was part of Homura’s Team Four, along with Fumihiro Hyuga and Akari Sato. The other two were not present, or if they were, they were somewhere else lost in the large crowd that was amassing.

‘Yes, because nothing screams entertainment by child endangerment,’ Orochimaru muttered.

Hiromichi pulled a face. ‘I wasn’t talking to you, you weirdo. But I guess you’re right – it would be much more entertaining if Princess Tsunade slipped up. Say, do we still have to call her Princess, now those crusty old Senjus have finally popped their clogs?’

Jiraiya gritted his teeth and lurched forward, grabbing the front of Hiromichi’s shirt.

‘What the hell did you just say, you little punk?’ he hissed.

‘You heard me,’ Hiromichi said, gripping Jiraiya’s fist and forcing him off. ‘It’s about time that spoilt brat was taken down a peg, along with the rest of them. You have no idea what they’ve done to my Clan.’

‘Are we going to have a problem, boys?’ Benjiro said sternly, laying a hand on Jiraiya’s shoulder. He coaxed Jiraiya to step away, keeping a firm eye on Hiromichi, who had a sour expression on his face. 

‘It’s nothing I can’t handle,’ Jiraiya muttered. ‘Just some idiot who is trash taking the late Hokage and his family.’

‘Really?’ Benjiro said, peering down at Hiromichi. ‘That won’t do at all, young man. We are all fellow citizens of Konoha, and talking ill of the family who founded it is not in good taste.’

‘Tch,’ Hiromichi spat, kicking up some dirt, ‘we’re not treated as fellow citizens. In case you haven’t noticed, the Uchihas are shunned and sectioned off into a dark corner of the village. We’re not exactly included within the community, are we? And that’s Lord Second’s fault.’

Benjiro shifted uncomfortably on the spot. ‘Well, that’s not for me to comment on. But regardless of your personal feelings, young man, slandering someone who has just passed is the epitome of disrespect. Excluded or not, I can’t imagine that is a quality your Clan wishes to demonstrate, now is it?’

Hiromichi’s jaw clenched. ‘Whatever. At least with Sarutobi in charge, there might be positive change on the horizon.’

‘If your idea of positive change is watching Tsu plummet from that roof, I reckon you need a reality check,’ Jiraiya snarled.

‘No need to get so defensive, Jiraiya,’ Hiromichi shrugged. ‘People might start thinking you like her or something.’

Jiraiya blushed and looked just about ready to hit him, before someone cleared her throat.

‘You’re really gonna pick a fight during your own Sensei’s inauguration ceremony, eh?’ Chiharu said sternly, putting her hands on her hips and looking down at Jiraiya with an impatient expression on her face. Even though Jiraiya had left the Academy, his old Sensei still had the power to instil fear into him, and he shrunk away timorously.

‘N-not today, Chiharu-sensei,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Hiromichi also had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed, but he still seemed ready to pick a bone with Jiraiya. Or the Senjus. Or even Orochimaru. Basically, the boy was dissatisfied, and content to harass any unfortunate soul who crossed his path.

‘I’m glad to hear it. I didn’t teach you to be so boisterous, after all,’ Chiharu said, before turning to address Benjiro. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Chiharu Nara – oversaw your little ankle-biter and his friends at the Academy.’

Benjiro took her hand and shook it heartily. ‘A fine job you did, it seems! Between you and I, I wasn’t entirely sure my son would actually pass with the rest of them.’

‘Dad!’ Jiraiya whined, as Hiromichi sniggered to himself.

‘Ah, he turned out just fine,’ Chiharu said, offering a rare smile. ‘I’ve heard from Sarutobi – ah, sorry, _Lord Third_ – that Team 7 are coming along in leaps and bounds. Particularly you, Orochimaru. I wouldn’t be surprised if you made Chuunin in the next couple of years or so.’

Orochimaru’s face went pink with praise, and he bowed his head, not knowing how to respond. Though luckily, he didn’t have to, for a sudden hush fell over the crowd.

Hiruzen had stepped forward, looking slightly bashful beneath the Hokage hat, his white robes billowing in the gentle breeze. While they suited him, he felt like the clothes didn’t quite fit. The hat cast a shadow over his eyes that limited his view over the village, and the robes were heavy atop his shoulders. Were they really to be his? Would his face truly sit beside two of the greatest Shinobi in history? Was he even of their calibre? There was so much doubt in his heart.

He struggled with a big breath, and let it out slowly. To the side, he could see Taichi and Komako, looking on at him expectantly. He could see Mito and Tsunade, the latter who was smiling at him with something he could only describe as pride. Were they truly pleased for him? His being there was evidence that Tobirama, and Hashirama before him, were gone. Their family. Did he really belong, or were they privately thinking a Senju should take his place? Komako was only two years older than him, and she was more than qualified. She was skilled and kind and had the blood of the village founders running through her veins. Suddenly, he felt like that hat was too big, too heavy. He felt like he was an imposter.

As if Koharu was reading his mind, he felt a hand on the small of his back, pushing him forward.

‘Go on,’ she murmured, ‘you’re ready, Hiruzen. Always were.’

‘Am I?’ he whispered. ‘I hardly know what to say.’

‘Look for a face in the crowd you cherish, and address them. The rest will come from your heart, Hiruzen. Believe me – we’re all behind you, every step of the way,’ Koharu said softly. She could be kind when she wanted to – and, after all, Hiruzen was her dear friend.

Hiruzen gripped the metal barrier surrounding the roof, white-knuckled. He searched in the silent crowed, over so many eyes looking up at him, looking _to_ him, to say the right words and be their leader. He spotted Jiraiya, white hair apparent against the sea of browns and blondes, and he saw Orochimaru, standing next to him. They were his precious students, the budding next generation, but still, his tongue felt fat and awkward in his mouth, unable to form words.

_Really¸_ he thought to himself, feeling the stone eyes of Tobirama survey behind him, _I’m not even officially Hokage yet, and already the pressure is getting the best of me. Probably not what you expect, eh, Sensei?_

Suddenly, he spotted a flower pinned behind the ear of the one person he needed to see. Biwako, he beloved. She was smiling up at him, her eyes brimming with the promise of tears. He swallowed thickly. _Address someone I cherish? Well, that’s easy enough. I really should hurry up and pop the question, mind. A life with Biwako, spent here, in our precious home. The Sarutobi Clan of Konoha…yes…that has a nice a ring to it. Huh. If all goes well, I could even be a Grandfather…_

The words started to flow naturally.

‘People of Konoha,’ he said, his voice reverberating throughout the crowd, ‘I thank you all for gathering here on this day. It is paradoxical, I must admit. For while we take a bright, tentative new step along the shining path towards Konoha’s future, my being here stands as a living reminder of what we have all lost. Lord Second was, without a doubt, the most splendid Hokage he could have been. We all feel his loss. For if Tobirama-sensei taught me anything, it is that we experience loss together – as one family. One beating heart. I see you all as my own family, and, as I would fight to my dying breath to protect my blood, so too would I for each and every one of you. Some may call it the burden of being the Hokage, but for me, it is the honour of a lifetime.

‘I will do everything in my power to uphold the values demonstrated by my predecessors, and protect this village with my own life. I promise to keep it strong, safe, and valued. While the coming days ahead of us are challenging – for myself, as I learn and adapt to my new role, for the Shinobi who are fighting in this dreadful war, and for those of us who are left behind – I am confident that we will endure. We will endure, together, and come out better and stronger because of it. Weather the storm, my friends. For I am certain that, when the sunlight hits us once more, everything broken will become whole again. From this moment on, I am…Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage of Konohagakure!’

A huge cheer erupted from the crowd. Hiruzen couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he heard someone – almost certainly Jiraiya – scream ‘You freaking rule, Sarutobi-sensei!’, and he felt an overwhelming burst of pride and hope bloom in the centre of his chest.

‘Ah!’ he called, above the cheers and clapping. ‘That reminds me – will my Team of adorable Genin meet me in Training Field 2, once the ceremony has reached its conclusion? It’s time I make good on my word and ensure Konoha is as strong as it can be!’

While Jiraiya wasn’t sure he liked being called ‘adorable’, he sure felt smug at the look on Hiromichi’s face. It was a big deal, being addressed directly by the new Hokage who everyone was cheering for, and he suddenly felt pretty important. For a boy who had lived the seven years of his life feeling almost worthless, he couldn’t deny the glee he felt as being the Hokage’s very own student. That must mean he was absolutely brilliant, right?

*

‘You are hopeless!’ Hiruzen groaned, slapping his forehead. Jiraiya was currently tied to a log (much to the amusement of Tsunade, who had gloated in his face), having failed the bell challenge Hiruzen used to check their progress. As expected, Orochimaru and Tsunade were still head and shoulders above poor Jiraiya, who was pouting. Still, Hiruzen wasn’t about to go easy on him.

‘How can a ninja keep falling for such obvious traps!?’ he lamented, shaking his head.

‘Can’t help it,’ Jiraiya muttered, turning his head away and glaring at the line of trees.

Hiruzen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Really, right now he could be meeting adoring villagers, settling behind his desk and finally beginning his journey to being Hokage, but he had stupidly decided to train his Genin instead. At the time it seemed like a smart idea – endear him to the public and whatnot – but he couldn’t deny he was getting frustrated.

‘Perhaps what you lack is a purpose…’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Huh? Whaddaya mean?’

‘Well, most Shinobi have something to focus on and work towards as they commence their training. A Shinobi Way, if you will,’ Hiruzen explained. ‘Take your teammates, Tsunade and Orochimaru – what do you think their purpose is?’

Jiraiya thought for a moment. ‘Well, Tsu is easy cus’ it’s obvious. She wants to get strong because she’s a Senju. Oh, and to stop her dad nagging her, I guess. He’s a real jerk, I’ll tell you that for free.’

‘I noticed,’ Hiruzen admitted, nibbling his lip in worry. He made a mental note to keep an eye on one Taichi Senju, given his short fuse. Without Tobirama to scare him into submission, he feared how much he would continue to saunter down his corrupt path.

‘And Oro?’ Jiraiya continued. ‘He’s a bit harder. But he’s always spouting off about becoming powerful to protect the people he loves. And to prevent loss. All pretty noble really. But I know he wants to become all-powerful, that’s for sure.’

Hiruzen nodded. He knew that much for himself. Orochimaru had obviously been impacted by the loss of his parents, and Hiruzen would have to be blind and deaf not to notice how hard Orochimaru trained. He was clearly on a path completely separate from his teammates.

‘Well, what do you want? Do you want to uphold your family name, like Tsunade, or protect those you love, like Orochimaru?’

‘I dunno,’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘I don’t really have a name to uphold, and what with Oro around, I feel like he can do all the protecting for me, you know?’

Hiruzen sighed deeply. It was quite a big question for a boy so young and naïve – asking him to pick a life goal was not the simplest of endeavours. Tsunade and Orochimaru were different – one was desperate to prove a point, and the other was desperate to avoid experiencing loss again. Jiraiya didn’t have anything to prove or prevent, at least not on the scale he needed. Naturally, Jiraiya wanted to show he could be a great Shinobi without a renowned Clan, but he needed faster results. He needed a smaller goal, set apart from his teammates, before he could start to envision a greater one.

‘Well, let’s see…’ Hiruzen said. ‘Yes! I know – we’ll try this!’

‘Ooh, what?’ Jiraiya said eagerly, kicking his legs against the tree stump.

‘Don’t get so excited. Just watch.’

Hiruzen bit his thumb and drew a line of blood against his palm. Jiraiya blinked at him in surprise. What sort of jutsu needed blood? Hastily, Hiruzen cycled through the hand-signs – _boar, dog, rooster, monkey, ram_ – and slammed his hand against the ground. Black markings scrawled from the centre where his palm touched the earth.

‘Ninja Art: Summoning Jutsu!’ he announced. With a huge puff of smoke, the Monkey King Enma was suddenly standing before Jiraiya, his yellow eyes bearing down at him. Jiraiya, however, was not intimated.

‘Awesome!’ he exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement.

Hiruzen smiled. It was the reaction he’d been hoping for. ‘This, Jiraiya, is what is known as the Summoning Jutsu. You make a blood contract with an animal, and summon them at any time using the Transportation Technique, which I believe you would have been introduced to at the Academy.’

‘I – I want to make a contract with that one, too!’ Jiraiya gasped, staring in awe at Enma. Enma, for his part, was merely looking bored. Normally when he was summoned by Hiruzen, it was not to be gawked at by some sort of inexperienced oaf.

‘That, you cannot do,’ Hiruzen said, and Jiraiya’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. ‘You see, in the same way that every person is destined to a different fate, so too is the animal to whom they are intertwined.’

‘Then which is my animal?’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jiraiya. Before you can make a contract, you need to be more adept at moulding chakra and sealing. It’ll take long, hard work, believe you me. It was one of the first techniques the late Lord Second drilled into me when I was a Genin.’

‘Huh?’ Jiraiya moaned. ‘Not more training?’

‘You will always find the answer in your training!’ Hiruzen barked, echoing the words Tobirama had once told him. That much was true, he was sure of it. The only reason Hiruzen had blossomed into such a skilled Shinobi was because he centred his training on a final goal: becoming the Hokage. Granted, he reached his goal faster than he expected, but it couldn’t be helped. For Jiraiya, it was time the boy started taking his training seriously, so he could catch up to Tsunade and Orochimaru and stop staring at their backs. Hiruzen could only hope that, in time, Jiraiya would begin to flourish and find his own path.

To a certain extent, this was the beginning of Jiraiya’s journey. Spurred on by his determination to forge a contract – and to impress Tsunade along the way – Jiraiya started to take his training seriously. Of course, change didn’t happen overnight. He was slow and clumsy and would likely never reach Orochimaru’s level, but there was definite improvement. And, when he accidentally summoned his way into the midst of the Toads of Mount Myoboku, his invitation to train there started to create truly astounding results.

*

Orochimaru was coming to a decision. He wasn’t particularly sure if it was a smart one or not, but all he was concerned with was obtaining great enough power to realise his ambitions. He had just waved goodbye to Tsunade, who undoubtedly had training with her father, and was walking the long and lonely track back to his home. If the bell test had proven anything, it was that things were moving too slowly for him.

Clenching his fists, Orochimaru tried to fight the images flashing in his mind. His parents’ faces before they left on their final mission, Jiraiya slumped in the hospital bed and nursing a wound he couldn’t prevent, and Tsunade’s face scrunched up in tears as he comforted her after Tobirama’s passing. He couldn’t stop any of it. Not the death of his family, Jiraiya’s injury, or Tsunade’s tears. _Why? Why am I still so weak?_

He unlocked the door to his house. All was dark and empty, far away from the cries of excited villagers as they celebrated Hiruzen’s appointment as Hokage. Far away from everything, really. He slipped off his shoes and padded over the floorboards, before sitting at the kitchen table. He didn’t really need four chairs. He put his face in his hands.

_Mother, father…Jiraiya…Tsunade…_

The bell test proved he was reaching far greater heights that his teammates. Even the gap between him and Tsunade seemed to be getting larger – as he strived for a greatness she couldn’t see, he was leaving her behind. He was leaving both of them behind, and he was itching for more. Hiruzen, however, wasn’t in a position to tailor to each of their individual needs. Now he was Hokage, he couldn’t focus on all three of them separately. Orochimaru understood that. A group activity was the best way to train them together, but it meant that he was starting to feel like he’d stopped moving forward. If Hiruzen had the time, he’d be able to make each of his students bloom. But as it stood, he would become too caught up in village affairs. It was immensely frustrating.

‘ _I will grant a chosen few great power and influence, operating at the roots of the great tree that is Konoha. We would carry out missions in secrecy, that may seem unsavoury for the more meek-hearted, in order to benefit the village. I am seeking out students with such potential to access this power and influence.’_

Danzo’s words to him suddenly ran clearly in Orochimaru’s mind. He jerked his head up. He had actively tried to shake off Danzo’s proposition, wanting to focus on other things aside from the so-called acquisition of power through Danzo’s dubious means, but it was suddenly starting to appeal to him. Should he approach him? Would Hiruzen think it a good idea? Orochimaru was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be mentioning any stints with Danzo to the new Hokage, or even his teammates, so surely, the alarm bells should be ringing. But he had taken that bell so _easily_. And Hiruzen was obviously preoccupied with Jiraiya and his new role. Was it time to find a second Master?

Orochimaru stood up. There was no point dwelling on the matter – he wanted the power to protect those precious to him, and he wasn’t convinced training under Hiruzen alone would help him reach his goal.

It was easy enough to find Danzo. He was skulking about the Hokage Mansion – which was teeming with harassed Shinobi trying to organise everything for Hiruzen’s residency. Danzo was helping Jun pack up some of Tobirama’s belongings to give to his family. The Senjus would be allowed to remain in their wing of the Mansion for obvious reasons, but Hiruzen would also be occupying another wing.

‘Phew,’ Jun sighed, wiping his forehead. ‘Lord Second didn’t half have a lot of random curios.’

‘Indeed. I can imagine it will take quite a while for Lady Uzumaki and Komako to sort through all these possessions,’ Danzo replied.

‘I’ll say. I don’t even know what half this stuff is,’ Jun frowned, holding up what appeared to be one half of a book-end fashioned in the style of a little tea set. Odd to think that Tobirama had such tastes.

‘Excuse me?’ Orochimaru said, feeling somewhat nervous.

Jun nearly dropped the book-end in surprise, quite startled, but Danzo kept he cool. He finished lying tape across the box, and peered down at Orochimaru.

‘If you wish to see Sarutobi, I was under the impression he was busy training you and your teammates,’ Danzo said dryly.

‘He was. I mean, he has. But he dismissed me and Tsu – I think he wanted a private word with Jiraiya, or something,’ Orochimaru stuttered.

‘Then what are you doing here? Are you looking for Princess Tsunade?’ Danzo asked.

‘She’s not here,’ Jun piped up, holding the tape between his tape to make sure the end didn’t escape from him. ‘I saw her head out with Taichi a little while ago.’

‘I’m not looking for her. I was looking for you,’ Orochimaru said, addressing Danzo.

Danzo looked relatively surprised. ‘Me? Whatever for?’

If Danzo was feigning innocence in front of Jun, Orochimaru didn’t notice. After all, Danzo was an exceptionally skilled manipulator.

‘I…I have come to contact you regarding your offer,’ Orochimaru said slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to evoke suspicion.

A look of satisfaction briefly flickered over Danzo’s face, before he lay a hand on Orochimaru’s shoulder. His hand felt heavy and uncomfortably sweaty. Orochimaru fought the desire to flinch away.

‘Come with me, young Orochimaru.’

He followed Danzo down a narrowing corridor, which seemed to darken with every step, until he was led into a small room. It was Danzo’s meagre office. He offered for Orochimaru to sit on the cushion in front of the low table, and loitered around to the other side of it, and sat down with a sigh.

‘I appreciate your discretion,’ Danzo said. ‘I’ve yet to discuss things fully with Sarutobi. I am biding my time, waiting for an appropriate opportunity, but I am certain he will not refuse me – especially with his very own student on board.’

‘I haven’t made a firm decision yet,’ Orochimaru said, much more bravely than he felt. ‘But I do want to discuss your proposition further. What exactly are you offering?’

Danzo leant back and rested against the wall, folding his hands under his chin. ‘Straight to business, then.’

‘Of course. I don’t have time to waste.’

‘Well, what I am offering you is relatively straight forward,’ Danzo said. ‘I see great potential in you, Orochimaru, and you clearly have a drive for power, whatever your personal reasons. Root will take some time to fully establish, but I am offering you a tailored fast-track to the top – the top being the ANBU.’

‘The…ANBU? But I thought they worked directly under the Hokage?’

‘They do, yes,’ Danzo nodded. ‘Tobirama made sure of that when he created them. But Root, as I have previously explained, will answer to me. Any members who wish to work for me, however, will be ANBU trained. Therefore, I am offering you the chance to train under me, in a private programme, to help you reach that level. When that day comes, you can become a fully-fledged member of my faction.’

Orochimaru frowned. ‘But you said it was about the acquisition of power. If wanted to be part of the ANBU, I could just follow the normal processes. What’s so special about training with you, or working towards Root?’

Danzo chuckled dryly. ‘Goodness, you don’t mince your words to spare one’s feelings, do you?’

Orochimaru made to stand. ‘I don’t have time for this. I sought you out to get stronger, but if you’re just going to patronise me -’

‘– be still, Orochimaru,’ Danzo said, holding up a hand, ‘and listen to me. I can understand your frustrations. You want power, you want to become stronger, and right now it seems as though you are stagnating under Sarutobi’s leadership.’

Orochimaru slowly sat back down and tucked his legs under him.

‘Listen, what I am going to divulge to you, you cannot repeat. Do you understand?’ Danzo said, leaning forward.

Orochimaru swallowed thickly, and nodded.

‘The reason that training under me to join my faction is more attractive than the normal ANBU processes is for one reason, and one reason alone,’ Danzo said, his voice low. ‘I can help you obtain kinjutsu – the Forbidden Techniques Hashirama and Tobirama banned out of cowardice.’

Orochimaru stared at him, catching his breath. ‘But…but they’re forbidden for a reason. They’re dangerous.’

‘They are dangerous because they are powerful,’ Danzo said. ‘But so is dojutsu – and yet the Uchihas and Hyugas are still welcome in Konoha, are they not? The path to being a Shinobi _is_ inherently dangerous. If we are not equipped with powerful jutsu, we surely do not stand a chance.’

‘But how do you intend on getting hold of them? They’re locked away in multiple locations. That’s what Chiharu-sensei told us at the Academy,’ Orochimaru said, his voice barely a whisper.

‘That is true. And I will admit, I do not know where all of them are,’ Danzo said. ‘In time, I hope you, Orochimaru, will discover what I cannot, and perhaps even develop your own. But in the meantime, I already have a man on the inside who is helping realise Root’s goals. All we need now are students.’

‘A man on the inside? Who?’

‘That, I cannot tell you,’ Danzo said, thinking of the deal he struck with Taichi. ‘But you can trust me – I only have Konoha’s best interests at heart. And if you can benefit from that, where’s the harm?’

Orochimaru bit his lip. A big part of him knew it was wrong – the acquisition of power could be achieved away from kinjutsu, surely? He didn’t want to take shortcuts. But still…to be the most powerful he could be, he’d have to learn and obtain every jutsu. That included kinjutsu. He shook his head. He couldn’t. He already had his Sensei, and he didn’t need a new one.

‘Mr. Shimura, I…I’m sorry. I seem to have wasted your time,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I think I miscalculated.’

Under the table, Danzo’s hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. ‘You are content where you are, then? Don’t forget, you allowed your friend Jiraiya to get badly injured. Clearly you have much left to learn.’

Orochimaru winced at the memory. ‘I know I do. But I can learn in other ways.’

Danzo flared his nostrils. If he was going to make Root work, he needed strong, young Shinobi like Orochimaru. If he couldn’t be tempted by kinjutsu and the promise of power, what could?

Orochimaru stood up and headed for the door.

‘Wait,’ Danzo called. ‘Humour me for a moment more, Orochimaru.’

Gripping the door handle, Orochimaru paused and turned his head to Danzo. He was basking in candle-light, the flames causing ethereal shadows to dance over his face. His features suddenly seemed so much bigger, so much more alive. His eyes were gleaming.

‘If you become my student and work towards the goal of the Root faction, I will tell you what happened to your parents. I will tell you about the Fires of Takigakure.’

*

Tsunade was nursing a split lip, glaring at herself in the mirror with something she could only recognise as disgust. How many more times was she going to mess up? She knew the theory behind wood release – a combination of the basic water and earth releases – but no matter how much she focused, she couldn’t do it. It was like her body wouldn’t cooperate with her attempts. She had seen Hashirama perform it time and time again like it was nothing. She knew _how_ to do it, so why wouldn’t it work?

Frustrated, Tsunade slammed her palm against the bathroom basin. Part of her knew it was unhealthy to put so much emphasis on one jutsu to represent her value, but she couldn’t help it. Not when her father consistently reminded her that she was worthless without it.

‘Dammit,’ she hissed. Her lip was swollen and she was exhausted, having spent nearly all of her chakra. She was in half a mind just to call it a day and go to sleep, but it was only the late afternoon and she knew her mother would worry if she retired early. But there wasn’t much left to be done – she had impressed Hiruzen enough to leave training early (giving him ample time to chastise Jiraiya), and her father had brutally dismissed her when she kept failing. In short, one sensei was impressed with her, and the other was revolted by her.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. Tsunade knew it was her Grandmother. Mito treated everything with gentle care, like all things that fell under her hands were fragile and tentative souls. A healer’s hands. 

‘Tsuna? Are you alright? You’ve spent quite a while in there.’

Sighing, Tsunade wiped away the blood with her sleeve so Mito wouldn’t worry, and unlocked the door. Nonetheless, Mito looked concerned when she saw her.

‘Goodness. You’re a mess,’ she said, weaving a twig that had caught in the end of Tsunade’s hair from a tangle. ‘Was training with the new Hokage really that gruelling?’

‘No. Sarutobi-sensei was too soft on me and Oro, if anything,’ Tsunade muttered, leaning against the sink and folding her arms.

‘Then what on earth happened? You’re covered in dust. Don’t tell me you’ve been looking horns with that Hyuga boy again?’ Mito said, her tone reprimanding.

‘I wouldn’t waste my time on that twerp,’ Tsunade said bitterly. ‘And it’s just from training with Father. What did you expect, I’d come home all squeaky clean?’

Mito pressed her lips together, fishing out a clean hankie from her sleeve. She always carried several – during this difficult time, it wasn’t unusual to encounter a weeping Shinobi or two – and she moved next to her granddaughter, gently dabbing at her lip.

‘And how did this happen, hm?’ she said.

Tsunade winced as Mito wiped away the dried blood she couldn’t get off, and shrugged. Mito raised her eyebrows at her sternly, leaning over to wet the hankie under the tap.

‘Fine,’ Tsunade mumbled. ‘Father flipped out at me when I couldn’t muster any more energy to attempt wood release. It’s no big deal. He’s got a point, after all. I _am_ a Senju. This stuff should come naturally to me, right?’

Mito ignored the surge of anger roaring in her chest at the thought of Taichi striking her precious granddaughter, and shook her head. ‘Point or not, he has no right to treat you in such a manner, Tsuna. No one does. If it happens again, you come and find me, alright? I’ll sort it out.’

‘That’s what Uncle Tobirama always said, and he’s gone.’

‘Tobirama never intended to leave us, sweetheart. It was just…grim circumstance. You know that, right?’ Mito said, pressing the cool hankie against the wound to help with the swelling. It must have been one hell of a smack.

‘Yeah. I know,’ Tsunade said.

‘And you know something else?’ Mito said, her hand becoming swathed in a gentle glow of chakra. ‘If you spent a little bit more time studying medical ninjutsu like this, you wouldn’t need your old grandma to help you out. You could heal these injuries up in a flash.’

‘I don’t have time to work on that!’ Tsunade snapped, jerking away from Mito’s touch. ‘If I don’t hurry up and master wood release, I’ll never live up to the Senju name! I – I’ll never be like grandfather!’

Mito lowered her hand. She hadn’t expected Tsunade to shout at her like that. She crossed her arms. ‘Now listen hear, Tsunade. You are not your grandfather. You never will be.’

‘Gee, thanks for the reminder,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘You know, if you ever need some good ammunition, go and talk to Father. He has some brilliant taunts.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. I never would,’ Mito said, an edge to her voice.

‘Then what of it?’ Tsunade said, her voice rising. ‘What am I meant to do? I’m not like him, but everyone expects me to be. Do you know what Father said to me the other day?’

‘What?’ Mito said, feeling the beginnings of dread.

‘He said that Mother is a failure and it’s up to me to redeem the Senju name,’ Tsunade said, almost laughing at absurdity of it all. ‘That I haven’t even scratched the surface of my so-called genetic potential. That if I don’t get my act together, he’ll -’

‘Tsuna, stop it,’ Mito said, noticing Tsunade hadn’t paused for breath. ‘Calm down and regulate your breathing, alright? You’re getting panic-stricken.’

‘Can you blame me?’ Tsunade snorted. ‘My own father thinks I’m a failure, and clearly has no qualms about overstepping the mark to get results!’

‘And he is wrong to do that.’

‘But it doesn’t stop him!’ Tsunade said, breathless from panic. ‘He doesn’t care! It doesn’t bother him in the slightest – he looks at me like I’m nothing, like I’m just some lowly kid he can push around and bully and yell at! And every single time I see him, it’s just a reminder that I’m not good enough for him, that I’ll never be good enough for the Senju name, and that I’ll – I’ll never earn this stupid necklace!’

She ripped it from her neck and threw it across the room, feeling like it was a noose tightening around her neck. It clunked pathetically against the wall, and landed on the floor.

Hastily, Mito abandoned the bloodied hankie and pulled Tsunade into a hug. She could feel her heart thrumming frantically against her chest, her breathing fractured and irregular. She was shaking against her. From fear or anxiety, Mito didn’t know.

‘Calm down, little one. It’s alright,’ Mito soothed, holding her granddaughter close to her. ‘Listen to me very carefully, alright? You are not a failure. Nor is your mother. For goodness sake, Tsuna, she is a highly accomplished and revered Jonin. She is more elite that anyone gives her credit for, especially her own husband. And, my dear girl, you are only a Genin. You’re on the cusp of turning 7. No one expects you to be a standout prodigy.’

‘Orochimaru is!’ Tsunade protested, her arms hanging loosely by her sides, not returning Mito’s hug.

‘There will always be those who flourish from a young age,’ Mito said. ‘There are also those who have to work a little bit harder to make their talent bloom. And that’s okay.’

‘But I’m already working as hard as I possibly can.’

‘Then that is enough, Tsuna,’ Mito said. She eased her away from her body and rested two steady hands on her quivering shoulders. ‘You are already a splendid Shinobi. Despite what your father says, you are already exceptionally strong. Have a little faith, my dear. You’re already doing the best that you can.’

Leaning forward, Mito planted a kiss on Tsunade’s forehead.

‘Then why?’ Tsunade whispered. ‘Why is he like that? And why can’t I do all the things Grandfather could?’

‘Because Hashirama was an extreme rarity,’ Mito said solemnly. ‘I doubt there will ever be another like him, Tsuna, and that is the sad truth. But you know something? He’d be distraught to see you so torn up over his memory. He loved you, and your brother, with everything he had. You were his pride and joy. And he never once asked you to live up to him – so just do your best to honour his memory, alright?’

Tsunade bowed her head. Her lip was throbbing and she was suddenly overcome with intense exhaustion.

‘But you know, Tsuna, there is one thing you’ll almost certainly flourish at, if you wanted to try,’ Mito said. ‘But it doesn’t matter if you can’t do it.’

‘What is it?’ Tsunade mumbled.

‘Something you shunned not five minutes ago,’ Mito said, smiling. ‘Medical ninjutsu. And before you pull a face, hear me out. You owe me that much after your little outburst, don’t you think?’

Tsunade nodded dismally.

‘You see, medical ninjutsu is often overlooked as a lesser pursuit, not one for combat, but one for support,’ Mito said. ‘But that is because people do not understand the true power it holds. Medical ninjutsu requires exceptional charka control and manipulation, and since many cannot manage that, they shy away from it and never unlock its truly devastating potential. Would you like the ability to heal people, Tsuna, but have the strength to protect them at the same time?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ Tsunade said.

Mito pointed with her thumb to the seal on her forehead. ‘This is where I amass a great deal of chakra, should I need it. This, Tsuna, is the epitome of chakra control. Once you’ve mastered it, I am certain you’ll develop incredible ways to utilise it. Medical ninjutsu is not just about healing – it’s about control, intelligence, and strength. Do you reckon you’re up for the challenge?’

Tsunade nodded eagerly, jumping to her feet. ‘Hell yes I am! Who’s gonna train me? Are you? Or someone from the hospital? Does this mean I can finally see what goes on in all those operation rooms?!’

Mito laughed, patting her affectionately on the head. ‘I’ll speak with Hiruzen to see if you can work under Biwako. She’s an accomplished medical ninja, after all. And in the evenings, instead of training with your father, you can sit in with me and study medical texts. There is a lot to learn. What do you say? Sound good to you?’

‘It sounds like the best idea ever!’

Mito smiled. The resilience of youth is an impressive thing.

‘Well then, my girl,’ she said, going over and scooping up the discarded necklace. ‘You’d best put this back around your neck. We’ll make a splendid medical ninja out of you, you wait and see.’

*

‘Well, that’s it then,’ Jiraiya beamed, leaning forward to grab a skewer of beef (he had come through on his promise and was using his birthday coupon to treat his teammates). ‘I’m gonna start training in Sage jutsu!’

‘Seriously? How’d you pull that off?’ Tsunade said.

‘I accidentally summoned myself to this mystical toad mountain,’ Jiraiya shrugged, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. ‘But the old geezer toad was apparently expecting a human child, or something, and said he’d train me! How neat is that? I’m gonna get so strong!’

‘Apparently so,’ Tsunade nodded, impressed. ‘Guess nothing can help with your stupidity, though.’

‘I have some new training scheduled, too,’ Orochimaru said quietly, interrupting an inevitable argument before it occurred.

‘Eh?’ Jiraiya said, chewing through his food. ‘What you got lined up, Oro?’

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full of food, you pig,’ Tsunade said, glaring at him. ‘Honestly, you’ve only spent a day with the toads, and you’re already acting like one.’

‘I’ll have you know the toads of Mount Myoboku are incredibly refined and respected, thank you very much,’ Jiraiya said, thrusting his nose in the air.

‘Then what the heck are they doing with you?’

‘You’re one to talk!’ Jiraiya squawked. ‘You just demolished half a cow in about five minutes!’

‘Well excuse me for having a healthy appetite,’ Tsunade hissed, blushing slightly.

‘That’s not healthy! At the rate you’re going, there'll be no cattle left in the whole of the Land of Fire!’

‘Will you two shut up?’ Orochimaru snapped. ‘You’re attracting everyone’s attention.’

He wasn’t wrong – several customers were craning their necks to have a good look at the ruckus occurring from the booth in the corner. The owner was glowering at them sternly, and all three bowed their heads in rather bashful apology.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I was just making a point. Anyway, what did you score, Oro? Something pretty epic, knowing you.’

Orochimaru shuffled his hands in his lap. He was told by Danzo that he couldn’t divulge the true nature of his training, but he could tell half the truth.

‘I’m…I’m on a fast track training route to become a member of the ANBU,’ he replied, feeling slightly sick at lying directly to his friends. But it couldn’t be helped – Danzo had information about his parents, after all.

‘What?’ Tsunade gasped. ‘Oro, that’s amazing! They hardly ever take on Genin!’

‘Yeah…that’s really something else, Oro,’ Jiraiya said, doing his best to smile. In all honesty, he was feeling the odd prickle of jealousy. He saw Orochimaru as his rival, and he finally felt like he’d taken the lead with his new training at Mount Myoboku. But, naturally, Orochimaru was still several steps ahead of him.

‘Indeed. It’s going to be quite a challenge, balancing Team 7 duties with my new training regime,’ Orochimaru said.

‘I’ll say,’ Tsunade yawned. ‘Biwako and Grandmother don’t half work me hard.’

‘Oh? You’ve started training in medical ninjutsu, then?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘Sure have,’ Tsunade grinned, flexing her arm. ‘You’d best watch out, boys. From what I’ve studied so far, I reckon I can manipulate chakra well enough to land hits strong enough to split mountains.’

‘Oh, goody,’ Jiraiya gulped, sweat-dropping.

‘It appears we’ll be parting ways, then,’ Orochimaru said, reaching over to grill a thin strip of beef on the hot coals. He hoped to use the smoke as an excuse for the tears suddenly stinging in his eyes.

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Jiraiya grinned, nudging his foot under the table. ‘Sure, we’ll probably not see each other every day, but we’ll still have our sessions with Sarutobi-sensei, and our missions as Team 7.’

‘Yes, but how long will that last? Now Sarutobi-sensei is Hokage, I fear he’ll have less and less time for us,’ Orochimaru mumbled.

‘Hey, we’ll always be a unit,’ Tsunade said gently. ‘And besides, even if Sarutobi-sensei can’t lead us on every single mission we undertake, he’ll accompany us on most of them. Plus, if you think about, that gives us the opportunity to work with other Shinobi.’

‘Oh, true!’ Jiraiya said excitedly. ‘Imagine if we could work under my Pa, or something? It would be so much fun!’

‘You – you really mean it?’ Orochimaru said softly.

‘Of course, Oro,’ Jiraiya beamed. ‘Team 7 is the dream team! No matter what happens, I’ll make sure nothing ever splits us up!’

And so, the three young Genin shared their meal together, speaking of their hopes for the future, and their aspirations for their Team. It would foolish for them to expect things would never change, and even with the respective excitement of new journeys and ambitions, each felt a slight pang of sadness in the depths of their stomachs. For they knew things would never truly be the same again.

Jiraiya would be splitting his time between Myoboku and Konoha, Orochimaru would be undertaking the demanding tasks Danzo set, and Tsunade would spend every spare minute in the hospital with Biwako. Gone were the days of childlike abandon, lying in the grass and watching the clouds drift by. Gone were the days of seeing each other every day, sharing meals, going in and out of each other’s homes liked they owned the place. No more carelessness. No more slacking off. The Sannin were turning to face a great change in their lives – one of dedication, focus, and hard work. It is dramatic to say that this was the moment they stopped being children, but looking back, all three could pinpoint that meal as the last time they truly felt free.

**END OF PART ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Well, not the end, but the end of Part One. Next up, we're heading into PART TWO - THE JONIN PROMOTION, which will start off with the Sannin being 14/15. I'm skipping the Chuunin exams (I really couldn't think of a way to be creative, and I wanted to age them up a little faster) but I think this period will be interesting to write about. It'll lead up until the war arc, and so on and so forth.  
> It's also a brief farewell from me, though not for long. I'm giving myself a week off to really plan this next arc out and make sure it's smooth :D  
> Thank you so much for the ongoing support! Really means a lot to know there are fellow Sannin fans like me, and your kind words really make this even more worthwhile. Promising times ahead! I'll pop back up in a week...for now, let me know if you're liking the direction this is taking :) Hope it's not too dull - but I'm saving up all the epic action for the war!


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya returns to Konoha, Tsunade aids in a hospital delivery, and Hiruzen and Biwako finally marry.  
> *WARNING* for very brief discussions of medical terminology. Just in case.

**PART TWO – THE JONIN PROMOTION**

Chapter Thirteen – Reunion 

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

Rucksack on his back, Jiraiya strolled through the gates of Konoha, and took a deep breath. It was a gorgeous day; he had managed to catch the sun just before it started to set, so the sky was shot through with orange and pink hues. He had been training at Mount Myoboku for the past year, and felt his grandiose return deserved some degree of attention.

‘I’m back!’ he bellowed, throwing his arms out as if to embrace the nearest unsuspecting villager. No one paid him the slightest bit of notice. Jiraiya pouted to himself.

‘Well, that’s alright,’ he said, to no one in particular. ‘It’s not like I’ve been away mastering senjutsu or anything awesome like that.’

Shifting his rucksack into a more comfortable position, he took a great, overdramatic step over the threshold to the village. To say he’d missed it would be an understatement – he had left when he was 14 and had spent all 365 days there, training and working and trying to stomach the terrible food. Part of him knew he left to catch up to Orochimaru; he was stretching ahead, having made Chuunin at 10, and Jiraiya was desperate to reach his level. It didn’t help that Tsunade had also made Chuunin before him, at 10 as well, leaving Jiraiya to scramble frantically in an attempt to secure the same rank. He made it at 12, but his glory didn’t last long. Orochimaru was promoted to Jonin at 13. It was totally absurd to think that he outranked Benjiro, Jiraiya’s own father, but it wasn’t surprising. Orochimaru was progressing up the Shinobi ladder faster than anyone thought possible, and yet it was obvious from the very beginning that he would flourish.

Still, there was no point dwelling on the past. Jiraiya knew he had become stronger – he felt it in his heart – and therefore decided it was a good time to return and show off all he had learnt to his nearest and dearest. Especially to Tsunade. They say _absence makes the heart grow fonder_ , and Jiraiya had experienced enough pubescent pining to know it was true.

Honestly, he was a little perturbed that no one was there to meet him at the gate; he wasn’t expecting anyone to roll out the red carpet or anything, but some recognition would have been nice. Sighing to himself, he decided to pay the Mansion a visit and catch up with the Third Hokage, before going home to Benjiro. However, Jiraiya wasn’t aware what he was about to walk in on. All was not well with the Konoha state of affairs.

‘Are you sure there’s no sign of him?’ Hiruzen sighed, resting his chin on his hands. He was exhausted – even though he’d been the Hokage for eight years, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to the strain.

‘Certain of it,’ Homura nodded, looking grave. ‘He was out on a solo scouting mission, as assigned by you, Lord Hokage, but there’s no trace of him.’

‘This is most troubling,’ Hiruzen said. ‘What with Fumihiro Hyuga disappearing earlier this week, and now Hiromichi Uchiha? It’s…well, they were members of your Team Four, Homura. I don’t have to tell you how serious the situation is.’

‘Indeed. Akari is distraught and there is little I can do to quell her, given that we haven’t made our move to search for them,’ Homura said.

‘Well, it’s not as easy as that,’ Hiruzen said, bowing his head. ‘These are tentative times. We’re still at war with Kagero Village, and I don’t want to do any more to threaten the borders in the Land of Mountains. Other villages are sure to interfere if we do.’

‘Yes, but none nearby are fully-fledged Shinobi Villages,’ Homura said. ‘We can afford the odd smaller conflict with these villages, especially in the name of protecting our own Shinobi.’

‘You call the sacrifice of our Konoha Shinobi ‘affordable’?’ Hiruzen said. ‘I understand how you must feel, Homura, given Hiromichi is your student. But I cannot risk any more bloodshed for the sake of one Chuunin. At least, not explicitly.’

‘What do you mean, Hiruzen?’ Koharu asked, frowning.

Hiruzen leant back in his chair. He was only 32, but he rather felt like he’d been aged exponentially for having to occupy the Hokage chair. It would have been amusing, he thought, if time ran differently for the sorry soul who sat behind the desk. If his aches and pains were anything to go by, he was almost certain that time flowed faster through his bones for him than anyone else.

‘I am considering setting up a taskforce to seek information regarding Fumihiro and Hiromichi’s disappearances,’ he explained. ‘We know that Hiromichi was running reconnaissance at my behest for the Uchiha Police Force regarding Kagero Village’s movements, and we know that Fumihiro was operating on the border of the Land of Mountains. Kagero seems to be at the heart of things, but to think they’d be able to tackle a Hyuga and an Uchiha seems unlikely.’

‘Unless they killed them on the spot,’ Danzo said quietly. He was standing in a shadowy corner of the office, his arms folded, as he listened to Hiruzen, Koharu and Homura discuss the recent developments.

Homura winced at the thought. ‘I can’t imagine either of those boys could be taken down so easily.’

‘Perhaps not. But what troubles me most is that none of you have noticed the obvious,’ Danzo drawled, his voice impatient.

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes at him. ‘What do you mean, Danzo?’

Danzo smiled nastily. ‘Really, Hiruzen, what with the recent report I submitted to you regarding the activities of the other Shinobi Villages, I’m surprised you didn’t spot it yourself. Or have you yet to read it? You certainly seem to be…buried in paperwork.’

Hiruzen pursed his lips together. Danzo had been contently criticising his running of things from the moment he took the hat, and it was getting tiresome.

‘Cut the theatrics, Danzo,’ Koharu snapped, clearly feeling the same irritation as Hiruzen. ‘If you have something to say, just say it. We are aware you have a web of intel stretching out further than we’d like to know, so if you’ve collected some useful intel, you’d do well to report it.’

‘I did,’ Danzo said, his lip curling. ‘I wrote that report. It isn’t my fault if our esteemed leader hasn’t had a moment to grace his eyes over it.’

‘Danzo,’ Homura muttered reproachfully, ‘these are my students at risk. Please, if you have something valuable to relay, just say it.’

‘Fine,’ Danzo said, arrogance oozing from his cruel smile. ‘As the report details, there has been some unrest in Iwagakure and Sunagakure. From what my Shinobi have gathered, they too have had Shinobi go missing. I can’t say where they vanished, exactly, but they all had one thing in common: kekkei genkai.’

Hiruzen’s eyes widened. ‘You don’t think…the Byakugan and the Sharingan?’

‘I cannot say for certain, but it seems those Shinobi of valuable bloodlines have not been returning to their respective villages. I can only assume there is a link,’ Danzo said. ‘Whatsmore, if that is the case, I would turn my suspicions to either Kumogakure or Kirigakure. They are the only two Shinobi Villages who have not been afflicted by these sudden kidnappings.’

‘We mustn’t jump to conclusions,’ Hiruzen said. ‘After all, the link between the Konoha Shinobi and Kagero Village is quite clear to me.’

‘Unless the perpetrator is using that to their advantage,’ Koharu said. ‘It is no secret that we’re at war with Kagero, remember. It would simple enough to misdirect us and pin the blame on the one village we’re embedded in a conflict with.’

‘But the Shinobi Villages have worked hard to maintain peace,’ Hiruzen said. ‘Why threaten it?’

‘Military power. Kekkei genkai and valuable bloodlines are no joke,’ Koharu replied.

‘And I would hardly call what we have achieved ‘peace’, Hiruzen,’ Danzo snorted. ‘We all know the First Shinobi War only ended because that generation of Kage fell, one way or another. Everyone had exhausted their arsenal, us included. No one could afford to carry on fighting.’

‘But -’

‘– we’re getting off-topic,’ Homura said, cutting across Hiruzen. ‘Whether it’s Kagero Village, or someone else, is presently unimportant. What’s important is the fact that two of our young Shinobi have gone missing, and we’ve yet to dispatch anyone to go and search for them.’ 

Hiruzen sighed. ‘Yes, you’re right. As I was saying, I am trying to figure out a way to deploy a search party without alerting Kagero, or further threatening borders. I don’t want this conflict getting out of proportion. And I think I have just the person for the job.’

‘Who do you reckon? Benjiro? He’s famed for his use of espionage,’ Homura said.

‘No. I was thinking someone a little more experience – as we’ve mentioned, it’s no small feat to put down a Byakugan user and a Sharingan user,’ Hiruzen said. ‘I want Komako to lead it.’

‘Lord First’s daughter?’ Koharu said, raising her eyebrows. ‘Well, she is undeniably powerful, but she is not exactly what I’d call subtle. She’s a bit of a whirlwind.’

‘That’s why I’d deploy Jun along with her. Two Jonins – and I’ll send two Chuunins along, as well – should be more than enough to at least get an idea about where they have been taken. I’ll encourage them not to engage, to avoid exacerbating the conflict, but if needs must…at least they’d be a formidable team,’ Hiruzen said.

Before the other three could voice their opinions, there was a knock at the door.

‘Enter,’ Hiruzen called. He nearly toppled off his chair in surprise when Jiraiya swanned into the office, having grown several inches taller and broader. Even his hair was much longer, and he carried himself with a new air of maturity and self-assurance.

‘Long time no see, Sarutobi-sensei,’ he grinned, dumping his rucksack on the floor.

‘Jiraiya!’ Hiruzen exclaimed, standing up. ‘We’re weren’t expecting you, my boy!’

‘Figured I’d drop by to make sure the village was still standing, what with me being gone for an entire year,’ Jiraiya replied, winking cheesily. Hiruzen cringed. He hadn’t changed that much after all.

‘One Chuunin doesn’t make much difference to the stability of the village,’ Danzo muttered.

‘Say that again once you’ve checked out my new powers,’ Jiraiya said, flexing his muscles. ‘I’ve nearly mastered senjutsu, Sarutobi-sensei. Lord Fukasaku and the rest are really impressed with my progress.’

‘Good news. Does that mean you’ll be returning to us permanently?’ Hiruzen asked.

‘Sorta. I mean, I’ll be available for active duty, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Jiraiya said. ‘But I’ll still be heading to Myoboku on the regular to carry on with my training. For some reason, Gamamaru – you know, the Great Toad Sage – wants to keep me around. Dunno what for, but I’m not about to argue with the old geezer, that’s for sure!’

Jiraiya let out a hearty laugh, and Hiruzen resisted the urge to chastise him for calling the Great Toad Sage ‘geezer’. Still, it merely showed how affiliated Jiraiya had become with the Toads of Myoboku, which was an impressive feat in itself.

‘Well, it’s good to see you, Jiraiya,’ Hiruzen smiled. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he missed the boy (well, teenager now, he supposed), since Team 7 just wasn’t the same without him. It was obvious that both Orochimaru and Tsunade missed him too, but the latter would sooner die than admit that.

‘You too!’ Jiraiya beamed. ‘Say, are Oro and Tsu around the village, or are they out on missions?’

‘Orochimaru is currently on duty, I believe,’ Hiruzen said, looking over to Danzo for confirmation. ‘But Tsunade might be around the hospital. Especially today.’

‘Today? What’s so special about today?’ Jiraiya asked.

Hiruzen smiled. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t have heard. You remember Chiharu Nara, I trust, your Academy Sensei?’

‘Of course! She was a bit of a pain from time to time, but I can’t say I didn’t deserve it,’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘Well,’ Hiruzen said. ‘She fell pregnant during your absence, and is scheduled to give birth today. Tsunade is lending a hand. All part of her medical training, you see.’

Jiraiya gasped, his eyes alight. ‘Chiharu-sensei, having a kid?! That’s amazing news! But since when can you schedule childbirth? I thought it was sort of…you know, random.’

‘There is such thing as a rough due date, Jiraiya,’ Koharu muttered, shaking her head.

‘Indeed. Though we know it’s today – I can’t discuss the details, obviously, since it’s no one’s business but Chiharu’s, but she’s having an operation to help things along,’ Hiruzen said, trying to remember the technical term for it Biwako had divulged.

‘Blimey. Sounds pretty graphic if you ask me,’ Jiraiya said, pulling a face.

‘Perhaps – but here’s hoping it all runs smoothly!’ Hiruzen said.

*

‘Steady your hands, Tsunade. You’re shaking,’ Biwako tutted, sternly scrutinising Tsunade as she wobblingly pulled on a pair of disposable gloves.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Tsunade said. ‘It’s just…a baby is a really big deal, you know? I’m nervous!’

‘Tsunade, I watched you reattach severed fingers the other week!’ Biwako exclaimed. ‘One baby is nothing compared to that, my girl, believe you me.’

‘You say that, but I saw Nawaki right after he was born,’ Tsunade replied, shuddering. ‘He looked like he would cave in with the slightest bit of pressure. Do you have any clue how soft a new-born’s skull is? It’s downright creepy!’

‘Considering I’m a Doctor, Tsunade, I am more than aware of a baby’s bone structure,’ Biwako said. ‘Pull yourself together, alright? I’ll be with you every step of the way, and I can help if anyone goes wrong.’

‘You know, when Grandmother suggested medical ninjutsu, delivering babies was not what I had in mind,’ Tsunade grimaced.

‘All skills are useful, Princess,’ Biwako said.

‘There’s useful, and then there’s gross,’ Tsunade said. ‘Babies are just so…I don’t know. So dependent, I guess. It all seems pretty exhausting to me.’

‘Goodness, you clearly don’t have a maternal bone in your body,’ Biwako sighed.

‘Do you?’

Biwako went a bit pink. ‘Well…I would love to have children one day. But what with Hiruzen being so busy nowadays, we haven’t even tied the knot. It took him long enough to simply propose, so I shudder to think when we’ll actually have a ceremony organised.’

‘Don’t worry, Biwako,’ Tsunade smiled. ‘I’ve been pestering Sarutobi-sensei left, right and centre. I’m sure I’ll get through to him someday!’

Biwako smiled back at her. Tsunade had blossomed in her years training under her and Mito – she seemed to have really found her feet with medical ninjutsu (excluding anything to do with babies) and was flourishing because of it. She was growing into quite the beauty, too, which Biwako found amusing, considering she was used to a boisterous child with the temper of a bear with a sore head. Tsunade still _had_ that temper, so pairing her attitude with a pleasant face was rather oxymoronic.

Privately, Biwako reckoned time apart from her teammates did her some good. Orochimaru, the prodigy, had been away for long stretches of time as he carried on up the ANBU ladder, while Jiraiya had been gone for a year. At first, Biwako was worried Tsunade would get lonely, but their absence eventually forced her to make more friends. Extending the olive branch was not Tsunade’s strong point, but with time – and shifts at the hospital, helping out the Shinobi populace – she had started to forge bonds aside from Team 7. It also helped that she had grown up a lot, and shrugged off the self-importance she had been so attached to.

‘Biwako,’ a medical ninja said, coming into the chamber where she and Tsunade were preparing. ‘The patient has been placed under the haemostatic jutsu, and is under general anaesthesia. We’re ready for the procedure when you are.’

‘Thank you,’ Biwako said, before turning to Tsunade. ‘Now, I want you to recite the steps in the operation so I am confident you’ll be able to perform it. Understood?’

‘Yes,’ Tsunade nodded, composing her nerves. ‘Firstly, ensure the haemostatic jutsu and general anaesthesia can be maintained for the duration of the procedure by monitoring the chakra levels of the attending medical ninja, for obvious safety reasons. Then, mentally revise the purposes for this operation – in Chiharu-sensei’s case, she has a low-lying placenta. During her pregnancy, we recognised that as her womb expanded, it affected the placenta’s position. Instead of correcting itself as her pregnancy progressed, it is now covering the cervix, meaning a normal delivery is not possible without the risk of heavy bleeding and haemorrhage. This would endanger both Chiharu-sensei and the baby. As a result, I will perform an incision about 10 – 20 cm long, across her lower tummy and womb, and remove the baby.’

‘Good. Potential risks?’

‘Chiharu-sensei’s blood pressure has been unusually high during her weeks of pregnancy, which can carry risks for both her and the baby. Postpartum haemorrhaging is another factor to consider, as heavy bleeding both during and after the delivery is a possibility. But the haemostatic jutsu should put a stop to that. Chiharu-sensei has been put under anaesthetic before, and had no adverse allergic reactions, so that should also be carried without risk.’

‘You’ve missed a few things,’ Biwako said. ‘Think carefully, but be quick about it.’

Tsunade pressed her lips together and tried to recall the book she had read last night. She closed her eyes and pictured the pages... _Chapter 18...pages 203-245…risks to mother…_ Slowly, the words were forming in her mind, and she could read them. She mentally turned each page, muttering under her breath and frowning in concentration.

‘Blood clots!’ she exclaimed, opening her eyes. ‘If the delivery progresses for longer than normal – say the umbilical cord is caught around the baby’s neck, cutting off oxygen – then there is increased pressure on Chiharu-sensei’s blood vessels. This can increase the risk of blood clots, both during and after delivery, which may lead life-threatening situations should the blood clot travel to her lungs and block the blood flow. She was made aware of this, of course, but we should monitor during the procedure nonetheless.’

Biwako nodded. ‘Very good. But there’s still one thing you’re forgetting. Focus.’

Tsunade looked surprised. She was certain she’d covered the major risks thus far.

‘I’ll give you a hint for the sake of time. So far, you’ve only focused on Chiharu. But don’t forget, we have _two_ patients waiting for us in there, even if one has yet to enter the world. Think about the baby, Tsunade,’ Biwako said.

Tsunade recalled the book again. It smelt old and damp, like it had been left out in the rain. She felt it in her hands, turning each page, Mito’s red hair visible in the corner of her eye. _Risks to baby…pages 246-248…trauma…stress…_ The words flashed in front of her eyes.

‘It’s the breathing,’ Tsunade said confidently. ‘Babies born in this way are more likely to develop transient tachypnoea, a breathing disorder seen shortly after delivery.’

Biwako couldn’t help but smile. Tsunade had what was known as a photographic memory, and it served her well. While Orochimaru was known as the Generation Genius, Biwako often boasted of Tsunade’s mental prowess whenever she could. The girl was clever. Very clever.

‘You are correct,’ Biwako said. ‘And you’re more than ready. Keep those facts in mind as we go about the operation, and remember, try to enjoy yourself a little. This is the miracle of life, after all!’

*

‘Hey! Orochimaru! Heeeeeey!’

Orochimaru couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He had just finished his patrol around the outskirts of the village (they were war with Kagero Village, which meant there was always the risk of enemy Shinobi progressing too closer to the border) when he heard a screeching voice bellowing through the trees – a voice he recognised instantly.

‘Jiraiya,’ he said quietly, his heart leaping. He ran through the trees, his heartrate quickening, until he found the boy in question atop a tree, scanning the surrounding area.

‘Down here!’ Orochimaru called. Jiraiya was so startled that he slipped from the precarious branch and went tumbling to earth. By instinct, Orochimaru lurched forward to catch him (Jiraiya had slipped from one too many trees during their chakra control exercises), but it turned out he didn’t need to. Jiraiya had flipped and landed expertly on his feet, a grin on his face.

Orochimaru blinked at him. No one expected Jiraiya to actually become sort of handsome as he grew up, but his height and new-found confidence gave him an aura that Orochimaru found quite pleasant. Tsunade was not the only one who had blossomed.

‘Long time no see, Oro!’ Jiraiya grinned, grabbing Orochimaru and pulling him into a hug. ‘Hang on – what’s with the new look?’

Orochimaru thought he was referring to his ANBU getup, but he was in fact pointing at his hair. He had pulled it back to stop it falling in his face, and it was neatly tied into a long braid.

‘Blame Tsunade,’ he muttered. ‘You were lucky to escape her little hair dressing phase while you were away. Though I grew fond of it, to be honest. It’s much more practical this way.’

Jiraiya pulled a face. ‘You mean Tsu has been doing your hair and stuff? You guys aren’t…you know…’

Orochimaru blinked at him, not understanding. Jiraiya let out a frustrated sigh.

‘Oh, brother. I forgot you don’t understand social cues,’ he huffed. ‘I meant that…you know, if she’s been close enough to you to do your hair and stuff…if you two were, you know, er…an item.’ He said the last bit with great difficultly, grimacing at the thought.

It took a moment for Orochimaru to wrap his head around the outrageous insinuation, before he burst out laughing. Jiraiya was rather taken-aback. He wasn’t used to Orochimaru laughing – he certainly hadn’t that much when they were kids.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Orochimaru chuckled, waving his hands in the air by way of apology as Jiraiya glared at him. ‘It’s just so ridiculous. I care for Tsunade a great deal, but she’s not exactly my type. I’m not sure I’m hers, to be honest.’

Jiraiya’s shoulders visibly deflated with clear relief.

‘So, fear not, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru smiled knowingly. ‘As far as I’m aware, she hasn’t expressed an interest in anyone yet. You’re in the clear.’

‘That – that’s not what I meant!’ Jiraiya exclaimed, going red. ‘I just wanted to know what I was getting into if my two best friends were together!’

‘Sure, sure,’ Orochimaru said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jiraiya flared his nostrils. ‘Don’t give me that, Oro. I – I’m not interested in her! Seriously! In fact, I wouldn’t go near that whiney Princess with a barge pole, and then some!’

‘Gee, nice to see you too, Jiraiya.’

Orochimaru couldn’t help but start laughing again when Jiraiya turned round, terrified, and came face to face with Tsunade. Her hands were on her hips, and she was glowering at him with all the strength of a tempestuous thunder storm. Any excitement she might have held at seeing her friend again had totally fizzled out, and dissipated into the afternoon air like electricity. Jiraiya had very unfortunate timing.

‘I…er, hi, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said, his face a beacon. ‘Wow…you’ve…well, you’ve sure grown up.’ He swallowed thickly, his eyes drifting downwards. Tsunade didn’t miss it.

‘Get a damn grip, you pervert,’ she hissed. ‘Honestly, you would think spending time with the toads would have made you grow up a bit, but I guess even Great Sages can’t knock the immaturity out of you.’

‘That is so uncalled for!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘Seriously, Tsunade, you haven’t seen me for an entire year, and all you can say is I’m immature?!’

‘I wish it was longer than a year, to be honest,’ Tsunade said, looking at her fingernails. That was a downright lie, but she’d sooner drop dead than admit to Jiraiya that she missed him.

‘Yeah, well so do I!’ Jiraiya said. ‘I forgot how much of a prissy brat you are, you know. Staying at Myoboku is way better than having to spend time with you again!’

‘What did you say, you snot-nosed runt?’ Tsunade snarled, lunging forward and grabbing the front of his shirt.

‘Get off me! Sheesh, you would have thought that you’d have learnt some manners by now,’ Jiraiya said, grinding his teeth. ‘It’s unbecoming of a -’

‘– finish that sentence, and I’ll kick you to the moons,’ Tsunade growled. Jiraiya hadn’t forgotten how to push her buttons, that much was clear.

‘I’d like to see you try!’ he shot back.

Orochimaru let out a long sigh, pushing himself between them. The three of them had turned 15, but Jiraiya and Tsunade still fought as pettily as they had when they first met, a whole decade ago. Some things never changed.

‘I wouldn’t test her if I were you, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, as Jiraiya straightened out the front of his scrunched-up shirt. ‘I have no doubt that she actually _could_ kick you to the moon if she wanted to.’

‘Whatever,’ Jiraiya mumbled, but deciding to take Orochimaru’s word for it. ‘Say, where have you been, Tsunade? I was looking all over for you until I found Oro. Sarutobi-sensei said you were at the hospital, but when I went by, you weren’t there.’

‘I was probably busy in the operation room,’ Tsunade replied.

‘Oh, with Chiharu-sensei?’ Orochimaru asked. ‘It was today, right?’

‘Yep,’ Tsunade said, her face splitting into a smile. ‘It all went really well. She had a son. Called him Shikaku, I think.’

‘Shikaku Nara, hm?’ Orochimaru said thoughtfully. ‘Well, that’s nice. Always good to have new blood in the village.’

‘That’s awesome news!’ Jiraiya beamed. ‘I never would have expected Chiharu-sensei to have a baby. She didn’t exactly seem thrilled at the prospect of teaching us when were at the Academy, so I assumed she didn’t like kids or something.’

‘She probably just didn’t like you,’ Tsunade said. ‘You were a pain at the Academy.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Jiraiya muttered. ‘At least I wasn’t a show-off.’

‘Well at least I could actually perform basic jutsu and hit the targets without making an absolute fool of myself.’

‘Apart from when Lord Second and your father came to watch.’

‘Will you let that go?’ Tsunade hissed. ‘You’re still just sour because Oro and I made Chuunin before you.’

‘But we’re all Chuunin now, you two,’ Orochimaru said, intervening before things got too heat again. ‘Well, I mean, I’m technically a Jonin, but that’s not the point. We’ve all done exceptionally well – so please, stop with your petty competitions already. We haven’t been together in a year. Let’s just go and something, yes? Spend some time together.’

Somewhat reluctantly, Tsunade and Jiraiya backed down.

‘We could always go and see Chiharu-sensei,’ Jiraiya said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know about you, Oro, but I haven’t seen her in ages.’

‘I think the sight of the three of us together again might keep her in the hospital,’ Orochimaru said weakly.

‘True,’ Tsunade smirked. ‘We weren’t exactly the most peaceful of students back then.’

‘Not much has changed, mind,’ Jiraiya grumbled under his breath, subconsciously flattening the front of his shirt again.

‘Well, what’s say we go to that barbecue place Jiraiya likes so much, hm?’ Orochimaru offered. ‘I haven’t been since – well, since we saw you off, actually.’

‘What?!’ Jiraiya gasped. ‘You’ve been living a stone’s throw away from the best barbecue place in the Land of Fire, and you haven’t even been for a whole _year_?’

‘In Orochimaru’s defence, he hasn’t had much free time to spend in the village,’ Tsunade said.

‘Is that so?’ Jiraiya asked.

Orochimaru nodded slowly. He still hadn’t divulged to the pair of them that he was operating under Danzo’s thumb, but technically speaking, it wasn’t official yet. If he did manage to become a fully-fledged ANBU member, and indeed a member of the Root Faction Danzo had spent the last eight years establishing, then he might have been inclined to break the news. But as it stood, he didn’t particularly want to discuss his missions – not that he could. Danzo had forbidden it. And for good reason, too. They were not for the faint hearted. He grimaced slightly, clenching his fists together, almost feeling the blood on his hands.

‘I mean, I haven’t seen him in months,’ Tsunade said, speaking for him as he kept silent. She could tell something was bothering him, but decided not to push him for the sake of tact.

‘Really? Sucks to be you, Tsunade – a life without me and Oro sounds dreadful!’ Jiraiya grinned, nudging her affectionately.

‘I hardly noticed,’ Tsunade said, thrusting her nose in the air. ‘Besides, I’ve been very busy, too. And I’ve actually become quite friendly with some of our old classmates. Especially my father’s Team Six – Kenzou, Isao and Riku used to knock about the Mansion while they waited on him.’

‘Hang on,’ Jiraiya said, looking between Tsunade and Orochimaru quite anxiously. ‘You guys haven’t replaced me already, have you?’

‘I’d say upgraded, to be honest. Kenzou is a Nara just like Chiharu-sensei, so he has about a hundred times your brain power,’ Tsunade said. ‘Plus, Isao and Riku use really interesting jutsu from their respective clans – you know, the Akimichi and Yamanka clans. No offence, Jiraiya, but everyone is sort of leaving you in the dust. We’ve all become a lot stronger as a unit.’

Jiraiya gaped at her, his eyes popping. ‘Are you kidding me? What do you think I’ve been doing for the last year?!’

‘Trying to stomach the food without vomiting, if your letters were anything to go by,’ Orochimaru said quietly.

‘No! I mean, yes, I was, but I’ve also been training in senjutsu!’ Jiraiya said, pumping his fist in the air. ‘So if anyone is being left in the dust, Tsunade, it’s you lot. I’m gonna outclass all of you, just you wait and see!’

‘We haven’t exactly been sitting idle ourselves, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru smiled. ‘We’ve both been working hard. There’s even talk of me taking on a Genin Team in the future, when this year has the graduation exam.’

Jiraiya immediately forgot he was trying to hype himself up in the face of his friend’s achievements. Ignoring the sting of envy manifesting in the pit of his stomach, he grinned, and slapped Orochimaru heartily on the shoulder.

‘Orochimaru-sensei, eh? Has a nice ring to it,’ he winked, and Orochimaru shrugged him off playfully.

‘You might end up with Nawaki if that’s the case,’ Tsunade said. ‘He’s on track for finishing at the end of the year, if his good grades are anything to go by.’

‘Ah, how is the little guy?’ Jiraiya asked. ‘He must be, what, 11 now?’

‘Yeah,’ Tsunade nodded, smiling proudly. ‘He got a bit of a rough time from Father for not graduating earlier like we all did, but let’s be honest – the three of us are monsters.’

‘True enough. I can’t believe Lord Second actually let a bunch of 6-year-olds graduate,’ Jiraiya sighed, squinting in the sun to gaze up at Tobirama’s stone face. _To think the old geezer has been dead for so long. Still feels like yesterday we were sat in Tsunade’s room, mourning his loss together._

‘Well, we were at war back then. Desperate times and all that,’ Tsunade said wearily, adopting a tone similar to an elderly war veteran who had seen numerous battles.

‘We’re at war now,’ Orochimaru said gravely. ‘Not a Great Shinobi War, I grant you, but we’re still fighting our own smaller battles.’

‘Yes, of course. This whole business with Kagero Village is really putting a strain on things,’ Tsunade mumbled. ‘Sometimes, it feels like we’ll never have real peace, you know?’

‘Indeed,’ Orochimaru murmured, looking at the ground.

Jiraiya looked at his friends’ despondent faces, and shook his head. This wouldn’t do – they were meant to be celebrating his return, and enjoying their time together as teenagers. He sucked in a great breath, and released it slowly through his nostrils. ‘Guess there’s only one thing for it, then.’

‘What’s that?’ Orochimaru replied.

With a cheesy grin that practically sparkled in the afternoon light, Jiraiya winked cheerfully and stuck his thumb in the air. ‘We just need the guts to never give up! It’s as simple as that!’

*

Some much-needed good news fell over the village several days after Jiraiya arrived back in Konoha: Hiruzen and Biwako finally had a date for their wedding ceremony. However, due to Hiruzen’s numerous commitments, they only had two days to organise everything before the big event. The result was that every off-duty official was running about the village like a herd of headless chickens, lamenting about the chronic shortage of bunting and panicking about hordes of food they’d have to source for the buffet. Jiraiya was put in charge of writing out invitations, but Tsunade was so sceptical of his ability to spell that she ended up scrutinising his every move as he penned them.

Tsunade was, in actual fact, assigned the role of venue-sourcing (which she should have been doing instead of leering over Jiraiya’s shoulder), on the account that was the student of both Hiruzen and Biwako, though the latter never liked to be addressed as ‘Sensei’. They trusted her tastes and her judgements, so when she settled on a large converted boat house that overlooked the river, they couldn’t have been happier.

Orochimaru found himself as a member of the security team. Danzo himself was in charge of the Unit, but Orochimaru was assigned to lead a small team that would be constantly on the look-out for anything troublesome during the ceremony. It meant he wasn’t going to be able to relax throughout the day, but the Hokage’s security was of upmost importance. The ANBU would be charting the entire area from dusk till dawn, regardless of how long the ceremony and after party would last, and Orochimaru didn’t know what to be more disappointed about: the fact he’d been tense the entire time, or the fact he’d be unable to sample the wedding cake.

Mito Uzumaki was, naturally, in charge of said wedding cake. Her baking skills had become rather renowned throughout Konoha, and Nawaki, still being the child that he was, liked to doodle the Kyuubi wearing a chef’s hat and stick his masterpiece to the fridge for all to see. Mito thought it rather lovely. Since Tobirama’s death – and her increased age – she had spent less time serving on Konoha’s Council, and more time enjoying the company of her grandchildren. She was proud of how much Tsunade had progressed in her medical training, and had no doubt the girl would soon surpass her, and she was equally proud of Nawaki’s resilience to his father’s frequent chastising. Neither Tsunade or Nawaki showed any signs of having inherited Hashirama’s wood release, and it was a source of consistent arguments in the Senju household.

In the years that had passed, Taichi Senju had not changed – in fact, working with Danzo may have tainted him even further. But Mito tried not to dwell on it. Komako was a consistently shining influence on her young son, and Tsunade was a great role-model. She was confident he’d turn out to be a good man, rather than a man like his father. Plus, with Jiraiya around the village again, Mito felt certain that Nawaki would have a good example of what makes up a decent person – for the most part. After all, Jiraiya still had a lot to learn.

On the morning of the big day, Jiraiya dropped by the Mansion to help Mito carry the huge cake to the venue. Tsunade was already at the boat house, barking instructions at the harassed wedding organisers and carrying a clipboard, and frankly, Jiraiya was grateful when she ordered him to go and fetch the cake.

‘Oh, Jiraiya!’ Mito cried, when he came through to the kitchen. ‘It’s good to see you again! Goodness – you’ve grown even taller than me!’

‘That’s not an achievement, Granny,’ Nawaki beamed. ‘I’m nearly there and I’m not even a teenager yet! And hey, big brother Jiraiya! It feels like it’s been forever!’

‘Sure does, little buddy,’ Jiraiya smiled, ruffling his hair. ‘Mito – you’re looking as lovely as ever! Shame your granddaughter didn’t inherit your ravishing good-looks.’

‘Oh, stop it,’ Mito said, hitting him with an oven mitt and rolling her eyes. ‘And don’t let Tsuna catch you saying that if you value your life. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to train with her yet, but the damage to the courtyard should be a good indicator of what your poor head might look like if you cross her.’

Gulping, Jiraiya peeked out the window and saw a huge crater in the concrete.

‘Noted,’ he swallowed, sweating slightly. ‘Speaking of Tsunade, she sent me over to help you guys with the cake. She said it’s a biggun!’

‘It’s absolutely _massive_ , probably even bigger than you!’ Nawaki exclaimed, throwing his arms out to emphasise the sheer proportions of the wedding cake. ‘We nearly didn’t fit it in the oven even with all the tiers separated – right, Granny?’

‘Well, that might be a little bit of an over exaggeration, sweetheart,’ Mito smiled. ‘But not far off the mark. Only the best for the Hokage and his lovely wife-to-be, of course!’

Nawaki and Mito were both right – the cake was an absolute masterpiece. It was made up of three thick tiers, iced in white butter cream, and piped with little pink and red roses. On top were a pair of wooden figures resembling Hiruzen and Biwako. Jiraiya smiled to himself – Tsunade had clearly gotten better at sculpting from wood. He still cherished the tiny toad she had given him for his seventh birthday.

Before he could express his amazement at Mito’s ever-growing skill, there was movement from behind him. Taichi and Komako, Tsunade’s parents, had wafted into the kitchen. Taichi was dressed in a dark blue yukata, and even with the heaviness of his scarred face, he looked handsome and imposing. Komako had chosen a lavender kimono, which complemented her red hair beautifully, and she was smiling at Jiraiya.

‘Jiraiya! What a pleasant surprise,’ she said. ‘You here to help Mother with the cake? It’s a monster, isn’t it?’

‘Sure am! Under strict orders from your daughter to make sure it gets there in one piece,’ he replied.

‘Let’s hope you’re not as clumsy as you used to be then, boy,’ Taichi said, raising his eyebrows. He still had an inch or two height wise on the young man in front of him, but he was genuinely surprised at how much Jiraiya had grown in just a year. There was also something else about him – an aura of chakra, of power. It was odd to think the loser of the Academy was clearly developing into a fine Shinobi.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll do my best,’ Jiraiya said, his voice flat. He didn’t hate many people – if any, for that matter – but Taichi made his skin crawl. After all, he was the only person who made Tsunade actively anxious. Years of subtle emotional manipulation had that effect, and Jiraiya despised him for it. It took him everything not to hurl back an insult or two, but, given Nawaki’s innocent presence, he decided it was not the time to have words.

‘If you and Nawaki could take it over for me, Jiraiya, that would be grand. It’ll give me a chance to get changed,’ Mito said, sensing the tension in the air. She never would have imagined Jiraiya would have the authority to elicit a tense response from Taichi, but it simply showed how much he had changed.

‘I’ll help you with your kimono,’ Komako said. ‘Say, Jiraiya, has Tsuna had a chance to get dressed up yet? She left so early this morning, and I’m worried she won’t have a moment spare if these preparations keep her busy.’

‘Not yet,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘But I haven’t either. Don’t wanna get my yukata messed up, see. Plus, Pa has a thing about helping me into it. He treats it like some sort of father-son bonding exercise, the soppy old man.’

‘Well, make sure she remembers. I don’t want her looking all scruffy for Lord Third,’ Komako said.

‘Ah, he wouldn’t mind,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘After all, Sarutobi-sensei is our Master. He’s seen us in worse states!’

Under Tsunade’s iron fist, everything was perfectly organised, even though her job was strictly venue sourcing and not actual organisation. But she had an eye for these things, and when Jiraiya and Nawaki arrived, buckling slightly under the weight of the cake, the whole place had transformed. Fairy lights were draped over the low-hanging beams of the building, and vines adorned with flowers wound up the wooden pillars. There was a long, rich-red carpet covering most of the floorboards, and an archway, where Hiruzen and Biwako would exchange vows, was stood pride of place at the hull of a large boat, which had been brought in and secured as the main feature of the boathouse. The whole place was sparkling. Tsunade herself had transformed, too, and was wearing an emerald green kimono, her hair tied in a complex knot at the back of her head. A flower was secured atop her ear, and she was smiling triumphantly as she admired her handiwork. Jiraiya swallowed thickly.

‘Tsu…you look…’ he began, not finding the words, but Nawaki interrupted him excitedly.

‘Wow, big sis! This whole place looks _amazing_!’ he cried, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

‘Careful there, Nawaki,’ Orochimaru said, coming over to join them. ‘You’ll drop the cake. I hate imagine Mito’s reaction if you did!’

Orochimaru was in his casual Shinobi gear, flak jacket and forehead protector included, but he had seemingly honoured the occasion by the small flower he had threaded into his hair tie, which was pulling his hair off his angular face in a long pony-tail.

‘Go put it over there on the buffet table before anything happens to it,’ Tsunade said, pointing over her shoulder to where numerous tables were stacked with covered food, ready for the celebrations. ‘And Jiraiya, you’d best hurry up and get changed. The ceremony starts in half an hour! Most the guests are already here!’

‘Sheesh, alright,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘It’s not like I’ve been busy helping out your Grandmother or something important like that.’

‘Oh, and take this,’ Tsunade said, shoving a flower into his hand. He realised, with a flicker of emotion, that it was the same type she and Orochimaru were wearing. It was a red tulip.

‘These were Oro’s idea,’ Tsunade said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear where the flower was perched. ‘Apparently, they were in bloom when Sarutobi-sensei officially became our Master.’

Jiraiya blinked at the fragile tulip in his palm, and felt a wave of nostalgia hit him like a tonne of bricks. It felt like yesterday the three of them were sat on the Academy benches, eagerly awaiting the reveal of their Sensei, but at the same time, it felt like a lifetime ago. Like some long-forgotten dream. Even thinking of his past self was like trying to remember a far-off ghost, like a little brother he was slowly growing out of. But instead of voicing any of his emotions, he gave a great sniff, and patted Orochimaru on the back.

‘Jeez. You’re a big softie deep down, you know that?’ he said, blinking several times to stop the burning of emotions that was welling up behind his eyes.

‘I suppose that’s the side-effect of spending so much time with you,’ Orochimaru said, smiling slightly.

The ceremony ran like clockwork. It was almost eerie how perfectly everything went – Orochimaru and the numerous members of the ANBU had very little to do – and no one could deny that the whole day was very special. Hiruzen could barely choke out his vows, he was crying so much. Though, after his tender words, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

‘My darling Biwako,’ he said, his voice thick and his hands trembling as he clutched hers. ‘I suppose first things first, an apology is in order. I have dreamed of this day the moment you agreed to that very first date, back when the two of us were still Chuunin, and I can’t believe it’s taken this long to go about it. Hazard of being the Hokage, I suppose.’

A swell of tittering laughter emerged from the audience. It was no secret that Hiruzen and Biwako had been stalling, and some were even suspicious the wedding wouldn’t go ahead at all.

‘But truly,’ Hiruzen continued, tears in his eyes, ‘seeing you now, looking so beautiful, I am certain it was worth the wait. The thing is, Biwako, after watching so many of our dear friends marry, I could only ever picture the two of us up there, in their place, as we are now. To say ‘it has always been you’ seems cliched, but it is the best I can come up with. It truly has always been you. Just you. From the moment I saw you, with that flower in your hair Lord First gave you, I felt like my life happened all at once. For I knew where I was meant to end up. No matter what, I knew I was meant to end up at your side.’

Benjiro, who was sat next to Jiraiya, blew loudly into his hankie.

‘And the pair of us have had our fair share of strife,’ Hiruzen said, his eyes drooping to look at the ground. ‘We have lost so many of the people we hold dear, stood by too many graves, and laid down too many bouquets. But despite that, despite everything we have seen, you continue to shine with the force of a thousand brilliant suns. Your warmth, light optimism has kept me going all this time. And whenever I feel like I am about to stumble, you have always been there to catch my arm.’

Homura sniffed to himself. He was acting as Hiruzen’s best man, and didn’t want all of the guests to see him getting so emotional. But it was hard not to. For Konoha to have a win was rare, and there were none more deserving than the two stood next to him.

‘I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you. Sometimes, it feels like I might be under a very pleasant genjutsu,’ Hiruzen said, chuckling slightly. ‘I fell hard for you, my love, but somehow, I knew it was going to be a soft landing. I love you. And I promise to support you, no matter what, no matter the cost, and no matter the circumstance. From here on out, I am completely, totally, and forever yours.’

While Biwako tearfully accepted his ring, Jiraiya found himself staring at the back of Tsunade’s neck. She was sat in the front row with the rest of her family, though two seats were empty. He knew they were for Hashirama and Tobirama. As Biwako started to recite her vows, which were equally as touching, Jiraiya felt something heavy and warm bloom in his chest. He kept his eyes on Tsunade. Her hair shone golden when the sun bled through the large window of the boathouse, and his breath caught in his throat as her skin glowed. _Is this what Sarutobi-sensei feels when he looks at Biwako? Is this what it means to love someone? That strange mixture of anxiousness, hope, and affection? Is that what love it?_

Jiraiya didn’t think he’d been in love before. He knew he felt something for Tsunade, but he figured it was just adolescent interest, and would pass like a rainy day. But for reason or another, as he watched her head tilt slightly as she gazed up at the newly-weds, he felt like it had to be something more. Something deeper, more personal. He felt a wild urge to lean forward and place a hand on her shoulder, wipe away the tear that was glinting against her cheek, and ask her if she wanted him to be hers. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. _Get a grip. You’re only 15. You don’t know what it means to be in love._ Jiraiya hoped it would pass. To give himself to someone entirely seemed far too terrifying a feat for such a beautiful afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's good to be back!  
> I've plotted out this saga, which will end just shy of the Second Shinobi War (that requires an arc in itself, since so many important things happen), and I hope to upload about twice each week :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! It's quite a bit different to write them as teenagers, but I hope I've done them justice.  
> I gotta say, every time I write Nawaki's dialogue, I die a little inside :'(


	14. The Child of Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya and Orochimaru receive pressuring responsibilities, and Tsunade makes a rash decision.  
> (Also off-topic but I decided to change up my user name - mainly because my gamer tag is sorta similar😂)

Chapter 14: The Child of Prophecy 

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

Tsunade and her mother, Komako, were summoned to Hiruzen’s office about the same time. It was the morning after the wedding ceremony, and naturally, being the Hokage, Hiruzen didn’t have the free time to whisk Biwako away on a welcomed honeymoon. It was back to work for the pair of them – he dealing with the war against Kagero, and she tending to the wounded Shinobi and general hospital appointments. In fact, Biwako had, just that morning, welcomed a new-born called Minato Namikaze into the world. Regardless, when Tsunade and Komako arrived (only having to go up a few stairs, given their living quarters) Hiruzen was not in the best of moods, wishing instead he was somewhere soaking up the sun with his wife.

‘Tsunade, wait outside while I talk to your mother,’ he said, not even giving them a morning greeting. ‘This matter does not concern you.’

Feeling slightly perturbed at his cold attitude, Tsunade pulled a face, but obeyed. Hiruzen sighed as she clicked the door shut, and his heavy eyes fell on Komako, who was looking at him curiously.

‘What is it, Lord Third?’ she asked. ‘If it isn’t for Tsuna’s ears, I imagine it’s quite secretive?’

‘Indeed it is, Komako,’ Hiruzen said, resting his chin on his hands. ‘It’s about Fumihiro Hyuga and Hiromichi Uchiha.’

Outside, Tsunade was making no attempt to disguise the fact she was trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. She had shamelessly pressed her face to the door, eyeing the pair of them through a gap in the wood as the spoke in low tones, and her ears were straining to make out what they were saying. By the time someone came up behind her, she was certain her mother was going to be sent away on a mission, which was unusual, given Komako usually remained in the village to train up the new recruits.

‘You really have no shame, do you?’ Jiraiya smirked, when he approached Tsunade.

‘You’d be interested too if it was Benjiro in there,’ Tsunade replied, her voice quiet. She had sensed someone approaching behind her, so she wasn’t startled, and she was familiar enough with Jiraiya’s clumsy footsteps to know it was him.

‘Oh? Is your mother with Sarutobi-sensei, then?’ he asked.

‘Yep. I was told to leave,’ Tsunade said sourly. ‘So I’m trying to – hang on a second, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were summoned too?’

‘Sure was,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘Say, you don’t think you and I are gonna be sent away on a mission together, do you? Just the two of us?’

‘Gods, I hope not,’ Tsunade groaned. Jiraiya looked rather crestfallen at her response for a brief moment, before he took to trying to squint through the gaps between the wood of the door.

‘You know,’ he whispered, leaning over her due to the height difference, ‘if you really wanna get a proper peek at what they’re doing and talking about in there, I can always use my Transparent Escape Technique.’

‘Oh, not that again,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘I know full well you only learnt that jutsu so you could spy on unsuspecting women in the bathhouse.’

‘Well it worked well enough,’ Jiraiya huffed, his face going red. ‘And before you start having a go at me, don’t forget that Sarutobi-sensei encouraged it. He came along with me!’

‘Don’t tell me that,’ Tsunade said, grimacing.

‘It’s the truth!’

‘There’s no reason to sound so proud and triumphant about that sort of thing, you pervert,’ Tsunade hissed.

‘At least I have something useful to bring to the table. If you could use wood style, you could prise the door open,’ Jiraiya said, stung by her comment.

‘I could put your head through it if you’re not careful,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘Besides, I’m strong enough now to just punch it down, but I’m not going to do that because I actually want to stay in Sarutobi-sensei’s good books, and -’

She was cut off when the door suddenly swung open. Yelping, both Jiraiya and Tsunade landed in a heap at the Hokage’s feet. Komako suppressed a laugh as Hiruzen glared sternly at his students, his hands on his hips and a pipe smoking from between his lips. Jiraiya and Tsunade at least had the decency to look guilty.

‘S-sensei!’ Tsunade stuttered, untangling herself from Jiraiya and scrambling to her feet. ‘We were just -’

‘Eavesdropping? Yes, I assumed as such,’ Hiruzen said dryly.

‘I wasn’t! I didn’t even want to get involved!’ Jiraiya piped up, still recovering from the fact that he’d fallen on top of his crush and was feeling a bit flustered.

‘Nonsense. You offered to help!’ Tsunade protested.

‘Only because you already had your ear jammed to the door!’

‘The real issue here is not who was the original perpetrator, you two, but fact that you thought I wouldn’t notice,’ Hiruzen said. ‘I am the Hokage, for goodness sake. If I can’t sense imposters outside my own office door, I’m doomed.’

‘Sorry, Sensei,’ Tsunade said earnestly. ‘I was just…curious, I guess.’

Hiruzen sighed. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. You were going to find out soon enough, one way or another. But such behaviour is rather immature for someone under observation to become a Jonin.’

Tsunade’s eyes widened, and Jiraiya let out a dramatic gasp from where he was spread-eagled on the floor.

‘Huh?’ she said, flabbergasted.

‘That goes for the both of you, actually,’ Hiruzen said, starting to smile as Jiraiya’s face split into a huge grin. ‘The reason I summoned you here is because I have recommended the two of you for the Jonin Promotion. Of course, there is no formal exercise like the Chuunin exam, but you will be under rigorous surveillance to see if you are ready for such an esteemed position.’

As Tsunade started choking out her thanks, Jiraiya’s brain was going into overdrive. Him, a Jonin? Ask someone a decade ago, and they would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested he would even make Genin. But now, now his skills were being recognised. Was he truly about to be acknowledged, despite not belonging to an elite clan? Despite the fact that Benjiro, his father, never made it past Chuunin? Or that his mother wasn’t even a Shinobi? _Am I about to be acknowledged after so long?_

‘Hey, knucklehead,’ Tsunade said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. ‘Sensei is talking to you.’

‘I was saying, Jiraiya, that since you’ll presumably be spending some time at Myoboku, I’ll arrange for Lord Fukasaku to report your progress,’ Hiruzen said, watching his student slowly digest the news. ‘So, fear not. You will not lose out just because you’re away from the village.’

‘I…this is amazing, Sarutobi-sensei,’ Jiraiya said, his voice quiet. It was like the energy had left his body and he was humbled, not wanting to act out for the sake of finally being appreciated as a capable Shinobi. This was it. This was the sign.

‘You know what,’ he said, picking himself up from the floor, ‘I’m gonna head over there right now. If you think I have what it takes to be a Jonin, then I have to prove myself as a master of senjutsu!’

‘Wait, Jiraiya!’ Tsunade exclaimed. ‘You only just got back! You’re not seriously going to -’

There was a puff of smoke as Jiraiya performed the Reverse Summoning Jutsu, and disappeared from the office.

‘Jeez,’ Tsunade said. ‘What’s with the hurry? It takes months of close observation before anyone even will begin to think about giving us the title.’ 

‘Well,’ Hiruzen said, chuckling slightly, ‘that is merely the extent of Jiraiya’s resolve. Out of the three of you, he is the one who wants to prove himself the most. Even more than you, Tsunade.’

Tsunade stared soberly at the empty spot where Jiraiya had been standing. It was true that, as a child, Tsunade was obsessed with proving she was worthy of the Senju name, but as the years went on, and as she started to recognise her father’s behaviour towards her was unhealthy, she had stopped worrying so much about being a capable Senju heir. It helped a great deal that Biwako and Mito had shown her value beyond her name and wood release, but it took a lot of work on her part to start to feel even slightly confident. There was still a long way to go, she knew that, but Jiraiya didn’t have what she had. He didn’t have anyone he had to live up to – the only person he had to prove himself to was himself. And it must have been a lot of pressure. _Weird,_ Tsunade thought, _I never really thought about it before. No wonder he tries so hard._

‘By the way, Tsuna, I’ll be heading out on a mission tomorrow,’ Komako said, as the two of them headed back to the Senju wing of the Mansion.

‘Is that what you were talking to Sarutobi-sensei about?’

‘Yes,’ Komako nodded. ‘I can’t give you all the details, but it’s to do with your missing classmates – the Hyuga and the Uchiha. They both disappeared near Kagero Village, and for obvious reasons, we don’t want to exacerbate the conflict even more, but it’s very important we find them.’

‘Why you, though?’ Tsunade asked. ‘I know you’re a Jonin, but you don’t often take missions, being one of the main Shinobi in charge of the new Genin. Why the change of heart?’

‘Well, it’s clear that our forces are being pushed to the brink, given our current scuffle with Kagero Village,’ Komako said. ‘Lord Third needs an experienced Jonin to handle this one, and there aren’t a lot of us available. It’s partly why he’s recommended you and Jiraiya for promotion – we need more high-ranking Shinobi, though I don’t doubt the two of you are more than proficient.’

‘But you haven’t been out in the field for so long,’ Tsunade said anxiously. ‘Will you be alright?’

‘I don’t need my own daughter worrying for me, Tsuna,’ Komako said, patting her shoulder gently. ‘I’ll be just fine. Besides, Lord Third is sending Jun along with me, and he’s a Special Jonin. Plus, I’m taking two of my Chuunin. You know, Team Two, in the year above you guys.’

‘Only two? Why not your three-man cell?’

‘Because we don’t need _that_ many Shinobi. And I’m fairly sure Dan is on another mission at the moment. Noriko and Touta will do just fine, I’m sure of it.’

Tsunade nodded. She hadn’t met all of her mother’s students – she had taken on so many during her time in Konoha on account of her being the First’s daughter and a direct inheritor of the Will of Fire – but she knew she had a good relationship with all of them. The only member of Team Two she had met was Touta, who had ended up in the hospital for severe burns from a battle during an escort mission.

At that moment, they spotted Orochimaru approaching them, on his way to the Third’s office. He didn’t look surprised to see them, since they still occupied the Mansion. He nodded politely at them, looking fairly serious.

‘Hey, Oro,’ Tsunade said, greeting him with a smile. ‘What brings you here? You’re not meant to be on some high-level mission, or something cool like that?’

Orochimaru lowered his head bashfully. He never really knew how to react when Tsunade complimented his prowess. ‘I was summoned by Sarutobi-sensei. Though I’m not sure what about, I’ll admit.’

‘We’ve just been to see him,’ Tsunade replied. ‘And you’ll never guess what! Both Jiraiya and I are under examination for becoming Jonin, just like you!’

‘Ah, about time if you ask me,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I feel like you’ve at least been capable for as long as I’ve been a Jonin.’

‘No, I still had a lot to learn when I was 13,’ Tsunade said, in a surprising show of humility. ‘As for Jiraiya…well, who knows if he’ll ever be ready, what with that chip on his shoulder and all.’

‘I think Jiraiya will surprise us all,’ Orochimaru replied simply.

He bid them both farewell, and continued on his way to Hiruzen’s office. He wasn’t often summoned directly by the Hokage, since he received most of his duties from Danzo, and he was feeling the beginnings of trepidation. Had Hiruzen worked out the true purpose of Root? Danzo had permission from Hiruzen to develop it as a faction of the ANBU, but Orochimaru was certain Hiruzen would not have approved it if he knew Danzo’s true dark intentions. Whatsmore, Orochimaru had finally been made aware of the other mastermind behind Root – Taichi, Tsunade’s father and the First Hokage’s son-in-law. It had been quite the shock, but the more Orochimaru dwelled on it, everything fell into place. Taichi was a man deeply unsatisfied with Konoha’s conduct and traumatised from his own personal losses, so much so he would harass his wife and children to get stronger, so it made sense he’d buy into Danzo’s manifesto. It made it that much harder to lie to Tsunade and Jiraiya, though. He supposed the only bonus was that Taichi was rarely around to bother with his family because of his new responsibilities.

Orochimaru sighed deeply, and knocked on the door. If Hiruzen _had_ discovered Root’s nefarious intentions, he could feign ignorance. He could claim he thought it was just another faction of the ANBU, and was innocent of his knowledge of Danzo’s bid for power and attempts to undermine Konoha’s running. Hiruzen did not have to know of Danzo’s promise: _if you become my student and work towards the goal of the Root faction, I will tell you what happened to your parents. I will tell you about the Fires of Takigakure_. He didn’t have to know any of it – the assassinations Orochimaru had committed, the communications with Amegakure, the slow unravelling of Hiruzen’s own reputation amongst the council members, Koharu and Homura, or even the countless removing of Shinobi who ‘might’ end up as a threat. Orochimaru would claim innocence for it all. He had his ambitions, it was true, and Danzo was the quickest way to achieve them. Besides, who was Hiruzen more likely to believe? A clearly unhinged, power-hungry warmonger with a deep yearning to surpass him, or his own dear, hard-working student? The choice was obvious to Orochimaru. But it didn’t stop his heartrate quickening from nerves as he entered the office.

‘Ah, Orochimaru,’ Hiruzen smiled, and his nerves fell away like a snake shedding its skin. There was nothing to worry about – he was still Hiruzen’s precious student, the prodigy of Konoha, the once in a generation genius.

‘You wished to see me, Sensei?’ he asked.

‘Indeed, indeed,’ Hiruzen said, puffing on his pipe. Biwako hated his smoking habit, so he had to do it in the secrecy of his office. ‘It’s about the new set of Genin. It won’t be long until they have the Graduation exam, so I am laying the foundations for Team Leaders sooner rather than later. After all, what with this business with Kagero, I fear I won’t have time to do it otherwise.’

Orochimaru digested the news. ‘You’re not…you’re considering me for the position of Sensei?’

Hiruzen smiled warmly. ‘Yes. I am.’

Orochimaru blinked in surprise. ‘I…well, you seem to be in a generous mood today, Sensei. First you recommend Tsu and Jiraiya for Jonin promotion, and now you want me to be a Sensei? Has married life put you in a good mood?’

Hiruzen chuckled and shook his head. ‘It is the natural progression of things, my boy. As Tsunade and Jiraiya grow and develop, so do you. And I believe you are more than ready to take on a team of your own – you’ve been a Jonin for 2 years, after all.’

‘But I’m only 15,’ Orochimaru said, unrest creeping in. ‘Not to mention I have my duties while I’m working towards becoming a fully-fledged ANBU. I may wear the uniform, but I’m yet to have the tattoo.’

‘I am more that aware of your commitments, Orochimaru, but you still wear _that_ symbol on your forehead,’ Hiruzen said, pointing to Orochimaru’s Konoha forehead protector with his pipe. ‘As a result, you are still a Konoha Shinobi under my jurisdiction. You can split your time between looking after your Genin and carrying on with your career progression.’

‘But…’ Orochimaru trailed off, thinking about Danzo’s reaction. Hiruzen seemed to read his mind.

‘I will deal with your superiors,’ Hiruzen said. ‘The fact is, my boy, that you are more than capable of being a Sensei, despite your age. You’re a fully-qualified Jonin, exceptionally intelligent and skilled, and wise beyond your years. I can think of no finer man for this role.’

Orochimaru made a distinct attempt to hide the happiness on his face. Hiruzen’s words had made him feel warm. Him, a Sensei? He would have his own little Team to look after, protect, and teach. His own family.

‘I’ve been looking over the prospective graduating Genin with their Academy Sensei, and should all go according to the statistics, there will be four teams of three. Just like your year, come to think of it,’ Hiruzen continued, shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk. ‘We have already formed the potential teams, so the next step is matching them to the best-suited Sensei.’

‘Who are the other Leaders?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘Well, Komako is a given, naturally. I have also recommended Sakumo Hatake, though I hear they call him the White Fang these days. He’s seven years your senior, so he is more than qualified. That just leaves one more team – I don’t suppose you know of Reo Namikaze? He’s a Jonin, too, though only recently promoted. Took him quite a while to become skilled enough.’

‘Namikaze? Yes, I think I’ve heard of him,’ Orochimaru nodded, calling to memory a man with blonde hair and a cheerful disposition.

‘I’m sure he’ll be fairly busy with the throes of fatherhood – his wife gave birth to a son this morning – but I think he’d be capable of handling a few Genin on top of a baby,’ Hiruzen said, clearly not yet understanding the demands of fatherhood. ‘So, we have assigned the teams with your four in mind. Here are your potential students, should they pass.’

Hiruzen handed Orochimaru a piece of paper with the Academy statistics. He glanced over them quickly, eager to find out who he’d be overseeing. The first was a boy called Takashi, and he seemed to be a sensory type adept in genjutsu, if his grades were anything to go by. The second was a girl named Satsuki, who was skilled in ninjutsu. The third was -

‘Nawaki?’ Orochimaru said, staring at the boy’s picture beaming up at him from the paper.

‘Indeed!’ Hiruzen said, apparently thrilled at his decision. ‘Who better to teach Tsunade’s brother than her own teammate? Not to mention the fact that, if you look closer, Nawaki is showing great skill in taijutsu. The team is a perfect balance of the three major Shinobi disciplines, and under your guidance, I’ve no doubt they’ll become extremely formidable.’

‘That’s an awful lot of pressure, having to look after one of the Senju heirs,’ Orochimaru said, his stomach squirming with nerves.

‘I recommended you for a reason, Orochimaru,’ Hiruzen said. ‘I think he’d flourish under your leadership – you see, Nawaki, for all his bravado, seems to struggle with insecurity. He is constantly itching to prove himself and takes it very hard when he messes up. Not unlike Tsunade and Jiraiya, really. The point is, he knows you. You’re a friend of the family at this point, so I felt he would not be so crestfallen if he makes a mistake. He also knows how strong you are, and I’ve little doubt that such an assertion will help his confidence – learning from a master makes masters of us all.’

‘But still, is it right to teach someone I have a personal association with?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘I knew Princess Tsunade very well when I became your Sensei,’ Hiruzen said evenly. ‘If anything, it gave me an advantage – I knew how to push her, and I knew what not to say. You’ll also be equipped with this advantage. Have faith in yourself, Orochimaru. There is no finer Sensei for Nawaki than you.’

‘Of course, all of this depends on whether he passes,’ Orochimaru said.

‘That is true. I have a feeling they’ll be ready by the end of the year, but we can’t predict the future,’ Hiruzen said. ‘In any case, be prepared to be a Team Leader, Orochimaru. It is the natural progression of your Shinobi career, and don’t forget – you learnt from the best!’

As Hiruzen let out a hearty chuckle, eerily similar to the one Hashirama used to expel, Orochimaru couldn’t even muster a smile. It was a huge responsibility, looking after new Genin during the turbulent time of war. Plus, he wasn’t certain if he’d be a good fit for a Sensei. He lacked social skills – Jiraiya had shown him that much – and he couldn’t even claim he fully believed in the Will of Fire, given all the strife it had caused. Whatsmore, looking after Nawaki was more important than looking after himself. If anything happened to the boy, Orochimaru feared he’d never forgive himself.

*

‘Jiraiya boy!’ Lord Fukasaku exclaimed, as Jiraiya appeared in the swamps of Mount Myoboku. ‘We weren’t expecting you back so soon. Can’t stay away from Ma’s cooking, eh?’

Jiraiya went a little green and swallowed thickly. ‘No, forget that. I’m here to train!’

‘Train?’ Shima squawked, padding over to see what all the fuss was about. ‘Jiraiya, you did nothing _but_ train with us for an entire year! What’s with the sudden urgency?’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t actually master Senjutsu, did I?’ Jiraiya said, shrugging off his yukata to reveal a mesh shirt underneath. ‘If I’m going to make Jonin, I gotta get as strong as I possibly can!’

‘Jonin? Who said anything about being a Jonin?’ Fukasaku said.

‘Sarutobi-sensei,’ Jiraiya said, immediately getting to work on moulding enough chakra to push one of the large toad statues along the grass. ‘He said I was under observation for becoming a Jonin along with Tsu, so I have to…I absolutely have to…get stronger!’ He shoved the statue with one large thrust, and it went spinning towards the foot of the mountain.

‘Slow down, Jiraiya boy,’ Fukasaku said, jumping onto his shoulder. ‘You’ll do yourself injury if you train without proper instruction. I can see you imbued with a new desperation to grow stronger, but really, you won’t get anywhere by just heaving rocks haphazardly around the place.’

‘Then help me work on senjutsu!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘That’s what the Great Lord Elder promised when I crash-landed here – that he’d make me a Toad Sage and reveal a prophecy! Neither of those things has happened yet, and I met you guys 8 years ago! C’mon already!’

Fukasaku looked rather disgruntled, and whacked Jiraiya around the head with a strip of bamboo.

‘Ow!’ Jiraiya yowled. ‘Dammit, Lord Fukasaku! What was that for?!’

‘For being so disrespectful!’ Fukasaku exclaimed. ‘Really, Jiraiya boy, you warp in here like you own the place, with very little explanation, and essentially accuse us of not paying you enough attention. Do you honestly think Ma and I would have spent so long working with you if we didn’t believe in Lord Gamamaru’s predictions? Not even that – if we didn’t believe in you?’

Jiraiya’s shoulders sank slightly in shame. Fukasaku was talking sense – he had no right to accuse them of such things, nor to demand more training. They were busy and influential beings, after all, and he was just a Chuunin from Konoha.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, slumping to the floor and leaning against the statue he had pushed. ‘It’s…I dunno. I guess I’m just eager to show Sarutobi-sensei I have what it takes, that’s all. And I suppose I’m frustrated. I know we didn’t just focus on senjutsu during my time here, but I still feel like I should have achieved more, you know? Hell, you should see Tsu and Oro – they’ve both progressed so much. Tsunade is practically an expert medical ninja and could cave my head in with a flick of her finger if she wanted, and Orochimaru is so impressive he might even get his own team. I just feel like, despite all my efforts, I’m being left behind.’

Fukasaku sighed and hopped off his shoulder, crouching in front of him. ‘I understand the yearning to prove yourself, Jiraiya boy, believe me. But rushing headfirst into training without talking to us first is just plain foolishness.’

‘I know, I know,’ Jiraiya said, sprawling his large hands over the ruts in the dirt the statue had made. ‘It’s just hard. I’ve…oh, it doesn’t matter.’

It did matter. It mattered because Jiraiya had always felt the pressure of not having a renowned clan. People judged him as swiftly as they did Orochimaru, the orphan without a surname, but Orochimaru had managed to claw his way into their scopes of admiration. They respected him. They were impressed by him. But Jiraiya? He was still just a child of an unknown clan, who had supposedly been piggybacking off Orochimaru’s success. He was excluded from Academy training sessions – he would never forget Kenzou, Isao and Riku dispelling him from their practise so flippantly – and his bold claim of ‘ _I’m gonna be a world-class Shinobi! Even more powerful than the Senjus!’_ was a merely a mask to hide his uncertainties. It was strange, really. Orochimaru was striving to wear an ANBU mask which proved his power, while Jiraiya was wearing one to fake it.

‘I just feel like I’ll never catch up to him,’ Jiraiya said quietly. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but the dulcet tones of Mount Myoboku and the calming presence of Fukasaku and Shima were suddenly soothing his tormented mind.

‘You talking about that Orochimaru kid?’ Shima asked gently.

Jiraiya nodded. ‘I know it’s stupid. Deep down I know the measure of a Shinobi is not how he lives, but how he dies – though knowing Oro, he’ll probably find a way to avoid death – but right now, in my life, I feel like I’m just holding them both back.’

_Weird_ , Jiraiya thought to himself, _Tsunade feels pressure because of her strong clansmen, while I feel pressure because I don’t have anyone truly remarkable sharing my name. Guess we can’t win either way_.

Fukasaku laid a flipper on Jiraiya’s knee. ‘Listen here, Jiraiya boy. This desperation to prove yourself does not have to be a bad thing – although we’d best work on your confidence.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jiraiya mumbled.

‘Well,’ Fukasaku said, ‘what I mean is that desperation can go one of two ways; the first, which is what I label as negative desperation, is when you become so consumed by something you want, that you are blinded. You give into darkness. You follow a never-ending road, totally insatiable, and you forget who you really are. I suppose one example of this is a man you would know of – Madara Uchiha.’

Jiraiya couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the mention of the great Uchiha. He had learnt of his battle with Hashirama, his complex values, and his slow descent into hatred. They didn’t learn about it at the Academy due to the sensitivity of the Uchihas who had nothing to do with it, but Benjiro had told him once or twice. All the stories embellished Hashirama as the true hero, and Madara as the villain. The details are never so clear-cut, but for a child learning the difference between right and wrong, black and white, the blurred, grey area in the middle was not within their understanding. That moral ambiguity, the greyness, comes with maturity.

‘The other way is positive desperation,’ Fukasaku continued. ‘This the desperation where you channel all that want down a brightened path. Instead of becoming consumed with obsession, you work slowly and steadily towards your goals, enduring all the while, and never wavering. You fill your life with peers to support you, and things that bring you joy, but you never lose sight of your goal. And the most obvious example of this is Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage. He desperation for peace spawned a village, a place of security and nurturing, which, though it carries flaws – as we all do – is undoubtedly the product of positive desperation. The choice you must make, Jiraiya, is how you will use this power. Will you use it to become encompassed by a single entity, and do anything to achieve it, thus compromising your morals? Or will you use it to realise your dream, and become someone who endures?’

Jiraiya was quiet for a moment. Fukasaku’s piece instilled a sense of curiosity in him. _Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju…were they not so different after all_? The fact was, Jiraiya _was_ obsessed. He was desperate. Everything in his life thus far suggested he wasn’t good enough, and he would never achieve the respect of his peers. He craved acknowledgment. While Orochimaru yearned for power, and Tsunade for self-worth, all he dreamt of was appreciation. And that appreciation could easily be turned into something positive, if he channelled it properly. He realised, with a small degree of shock, that while he and his team had had the same misfit beginnings, they were all on very different journeys. There was no point in chasing them down paths that weren’t his own.

‘I want to become someone who endures,’ Jiraiya said, feeling the sun warm his back. ‘I want to become someone who never gives up, despite everything. I want – I want something good to come of my desperation.’

Fukasaku smiled. ‘That, my boy, we can help you with.’

Jiraiya spent the next week doing nothing but train with the Toads. They focused specifically on senjutsu, and while he was never able to completely master Sage Mode, his power and command over the jutsu was undeniable. It was on his seventh day of training, the morning before he would return to Konoha to update Hiruzen on his progress, when Gamabunta thundered to find him.

‘Oi! Jiraiya!’ the toad called, before finding him in deep meditation. Jiraiya opened one eye and looked at Gamabunta indifferently.

‘What is it, Bunta? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to invoke Nature Energy right now, and you and your booming voice isn’t helping,’ Jiraiya said, adopting an extremely uncharacteristic serene tone.

‘The Great Lord Elder has summoned you, you blockhead,’ Gamabunta said. ‘I was asked to come and collect you.’

‘Summoned me? What for?’

‘He said he as a prophecy for you!’

All of Jiraiya’s serene attitude evaporated immediately, and he jumped to his feet with all the energy and strength of the Myoboku toads.

‘Bunta, are you serious?!’ he exclaimed, punching the air.

‘Yeah, I am. So get a move on – they’re all waiting for you in there.’

Before long, Jiraiya was crouched in front of the gigantic mass that was the Great Lord Elder, the Toad Sage Gamamaru, who was as old as time itself. There was a rumour he was a witness to the birth of all Shinboi, but the Great Toad Sage’s memory was so poor that no one was entirely sure whether it actually happened or not. But, if he knew one thing for certain, it was that all of his prophecies came true without fail. His most famous, which he uttered to Hagoromo Otsutsuki, promised that the world would be changed, and the Tailed Beasts united, by _a mischievous blue-eyed boy_. But that was not Jiraiya’s prophecy. There was something else on the horizon for him.

‘The Great Lord Elder had a dream about you, Jiraiya boy,’ Fukasaku said, who was sitting to Gamamaru’s right. ‘As you’re aware, his dreams equate to prophecies. So, this is it – the reason for your being here. Listen well.’

Jiraiya nodded, feeling sweat drip down his neck. Why was he suddenly so nervous? _I mean, I am about to hear my destiny from a giant geezer toad. I’d be worried if I wasn’t a bit on edge._

‘In my dream, you, who are solely pervy, with still manage to become a splendid Shinobi,’ Gamamaru began, in a surprisingly gentle voice for once so huge.

Jiraiya pulled a face. _Solely pervy? Of all things, why does the old geezer remember that?_

‘During that time,’ Gamamaru continued slowly, ‘you will have your own disciple…and that disciple will become a Shinobi who will bring about a great change to the Shinobi world. That is what I saw in my dream.’

Jiraiya blinked at him. Honestly, he’d been expecting a little more, so he decided to press the Great Toad Sage further. ‘Huh? A great change?’

‘Either great stability or great destruction – the likes of which this world has never seen before. One of those two,’ Gamamaru replied, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

‘One of those two? What do you mean?’ Jiraiya spluttered.

Gamamaru sighed, as if the effort of relaying his dream was too much to handle. He briefly reminded Jiraiya of Kenzou Nara – not that he’d ever tell his classmate that a giant toad called him to his mind.

‘You will guide the revolutionary,’ Gamamaru explained. ‘And the day will come when you will be forced to make a critical selection.’

‘Selection?’

‘Your choice will decide which way the change goes.’

Jiraiya was momentarily lost for words. Did he really mean what he said? That he, Jiraiya, a lowly Chuunin from Konoha, would end up deciding the ultimate fate of the world? Resisting the urge to let out a shaky sigh of fear, Jiraiya looked Gamamaru right in the eye.

‘But…what must I do? To make the right choice?’ he said, gripping his knees in an attempt to stop his body from trembling.

‘In my dream, you travelled the world writing books.’

‘Books?’ Jiraiya snorted, nearly laughing at the absurdity of the insinuation. ‘Whatever for?’

Gamamaru made a slow, lumbering movement that might have been a shrug. ‘Who can say for sure? I do not have all the answers. Perhaps it’ll be a journey around the world to see all things in nature.’

*

Orochimaru got a surprise when he trudged home and found a scruffy-looking Jiraiya sat on his doorstep.

‘Jiraiya? You’re back from Mount Myoboku, then?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘Yeah. Hey, man,’ Jiraiya murmured. Orochimaru looked at him with concern. It wasn’t often Jiraiya sounded so weary and despondent.

‘Is…is everything okay?’ he asked tentatively, fishing in his pocket for the house key.

Jiraiya pressed his lips together, and tilted his head up to gaze at the moon. It was a very clear night – there were hardly any clouds in the sky, and the light pollution from the village was minimal, so one could gaze up at the brilliant tapestry of stars.

‘You know any of those constellations, Oro?’ he asked quietly, his dark eyes alight with the cosmic rays from the stars and the moon above.

Dropping his key back into his pocket, Orochimaru sat down next to Jiraiya on the doorstep, and pulled his knees up to his chest. The clearness of the night brought with it a nip of chill in the air, and Orochimaru shivered slightly.

‘I can’t say I know them all,’ he replied. ‘Though my mother was a bit of a star-gazer. I think I could name one or two, if the clouds were kinder.’

‘You kidding? There’s hardly a wisp in the sky.’

‘There’s enough to block the vision,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Although I think those three – the ones sticking out in that straight line – are the beginnings of the Northern Tower.’

‘What’s that?’

Orochimaru shrugged. ‘Oh, I can’t remember all the details. Mother told me stories of the Tailed Beasts to send me to sleep, not constellations. But I think it is the immortalisation of the great Shinobi, Kazunari Kobori. You heard of him?’

‘Yeah! He’s who that Shinobi in those books I loved is based off – you know, _Death Crash the Invincible_!’ Jiraiya said, seeming to perk up at the mention of his childhood hero. Orochimaru grimaced. He would never forget Jiraiya’s eagerness to loan him those novels when he received them on his seventh birthday, and he had spent years trying to make up excuses for why he hadn’t read them yet.

‘Well, just in case, er, _Death Crash_ is not strictly accurate, Kazunari was a legendary Shinobi who was well-versed in Earth style jutsu. The Northern Tower constellation symbolises the huge tower he summoned from the earth, which stood for 500 hundred years before it was struck by a bolt of lightning. Some thought it was retribution from the Gods, given Kazunari’s immense prowess, but others saw it as the heavens taking the Tower _back_ to the sky. Hence, the stars,’ Orochimaru said, tracing his pale finger over the night sky.

He turned slightly to look at Jiraiya, who was bathed in a delicate sheen of moonlight. His white hair seemed almost luminous, and his mouth was open slightly in wonderment. Strange shadows cast over his face, making him look almost ethereally beautiful. Orochimaru swallowed thickly. What was that odd feeling, squirming in his stomach?

‘…but I take it you didn’t come here to star-gaze,’ Orochimaru said, once he had calmed his racing heartbeat.

Jiraiya sighed that same, weary sigh that made Orochimaru worry so much. ‘Nah. As much as I admire the stars, they’re there all the time.’

‘That’s true enough,’ Orochimaru replied. He had often contemplated the immortality of the stars. ‘Nearly everything crumbles and fades away. And even the stars will, eventually. But sometimes they seem like they’ll last forever, when you stare at them for long enough.’

‘That’ll be the light burning onto your retinas,’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘But say, that’s awful philosophical of you, Oro.’

‘Well, I’ve had some interesting news. Such things often force one to consider their place in the universe, I think.’

‘Sheesh, you think you’ve had interesting news?’ Jiraiya grumbled, slumping his face in his hands. ‘Wait till I tell you what news I received today. It’ll knock you for six.’

‘Try me,’ Orochimaru said. If he could think of anything to help Jiraiya out of his apparent rut, it was an old-fashioned competition with his rival.

‘You first,’ Jiraiya grinned.

Orochimaru lowered his eyes. _Hook, line and sinker._ ‘Sarutobi-sensei told me I was to be a Team Leader to a new squad of Genin last week. I’m going to be a Sensei.’

‘Eh? But we knew that already, pretty much,’ Jiraiya said, both disappointed in the lackluster news, and privately gleeful that his was so much bigger. Then again, not much was bigger than the fate of the whole world.

‘Except one of them is going to be Nawaki,’ Orochimaru replied, tightening his arms around his legs. Saying it aloud made it all the more real, and the pressure along with it, too.

Surprisingly, Jiraiya burst out laughing. ‘Oh, you’re not serious, are you?’

‘Deadly,’ Orochimaru mumbled.

‘But that’s brilliant!’ Jiraiya cried, slapping him on the back. ‘Mito and Komako practically worship the ground you walk on, and Tsunade will just be relieved it’s not someone like me teaching her kid brother! More than that, I bet she’ll be happy!’

‘But what if something happens to him under my care?’ Orochimaru said. ‘Don’t forget, Jiraiya, you were heavily wounded on that mission we went on back when we were Genin. What if the same thing happens again? Or worse?’ Orochimaru shuddered just thinking about it. The guilt he felt for Jiraiya’s injury, while not as intense as it once had been, still burned under the surface of his heart. He would never forget that feeling, and it would be increased ten-fold if Nawaki ended up in a similar situation.

‘You worry too much,’ Jiraiya said, his voice returning to a normal level. ‘You guys will be just fine – you’re easily the strongest Shinobi in our generation, so frankly, Nawaki will be lucky to have you. And I know you’ll look after him – if not for Tsunade, but for yourself. I know how fond you are of the kid.’

‘That’s the issue,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I’m worried I’ll be so anxious about anything happening to him, that I’ll get distracted and mess up.’

Jiraiya frowned at him. ‘You’re worried about worrying?’

‘Yes. I suppose I am.’

‘That’s just silly.’

‘No, it isn’t.’ Orochimaru said seriously. ‘It absolutely isn’t.’

Jiraiya, noting the severity of his tone, shook his head. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. You have every right to be concerned. And to be honest, I’m right there with you. I…I’ve suddenly found myself under quite a lot of pressure, Oro. And I dunno how to handle it. That’s why I came here – to talk it out, you know?’

Orochimaru tried to contain his amazement and refrain from interruption as Jiraiya recited the prophecy to him, confiding his insecurities and anxiousness about it, and revealing how terrified he was of making the wrong decision. People often forget that, while the ‘chosen ones’, the so-called ‘children of prophecy’, feel unimaginable pressure and a desperation to do the right thing, those who lead them feel the same pressure. For Jiraiya was met with a vital decision – he was going to be a leader. A teacher. Teach the wrong values, and the whole world was at risk. If he put his faith in the wrong person, everything would end. If he chose the wrong words, there was no telling the destruction that would occur. Jiraiya felt like he’d shackled by responsibility, and he didn’t know how to handle it. One foot wrong, and life as they knew it would be doomed. He was a 15-year-old boy, suddenly faced with a single decision that would change fate. Destiny was quite literally in the palm of his trembling hand, and he didn’t know what to do.

In the end, Orochimaru took that hand, and held it tightly. It was strong and roughened with years of hard training, and burning hot against Orochimaru’s freezing palm. He swallowed and tried to find the best words to support his friend.

‘Jiraiya, I…I hardly know what to say,’ he murmured. ‘Though you’ve definitely received the more interesting news.’

Jiraiya let out a laugh, though it was short lived.

‘But I think you were chosen for a reason,’ Orochimaru continued. ‘Call it fate, or destiny, or pure dumb luck, you’ve been selected for the most noble and immense of tasks. Whoever governs the turn of the universe must have seen something in you, Jiraiya – something to believe in. Something to trust. And that something is going to change the world for the better. I believe in that one hundred percent. Believe in me, if not yourself.’

Jiraiya sniffed, and Orochimaru felt him squeeze his hand back.

‘How can you have so much faith in me, eh, Oro?’ Jiraiya whispered, his eyes glued to the stars. The clouds were clearing, and bit by bit, the Northern Tower was appearing in all its glory.

Orochimaru’s eyes didn’t even flicker to the constellation. They remained on Jiraiya’s face, which was turned up to the sky and basking in the glorious glow of the heavens. ‘Why do I believe in you? That’s simple. You’re the boy who reached out to me, invited me into your home, and made me your friend. You taught the outcast orphan how to cook. You…you made me feel at home. If that doesn’t prove what a good person you are, then I don’t know what does. And that goodness will undoubtedly be passed on to this child of prophecy. I think you’ll give this child something truly valuable – the power of heart.’

Jiraiya, his eyes on the stars, gave a small smile.

‘Thanks, Oro,’ he said quietly. ‘Who’d have figured, eh? A guy like you giving sound advice?’

‘I have my moments,’ Orochimaru replied, his eyes finally drifting from Jiraiya’s face and up to the sky above.

*

‘Why the hell aren’t you sending someone after them?’ Tsunade snarled, slamming her hands on Hiruzen’s desk. It was a miracle it didn’t break, but she trying to hold back her strength for the sake of being listened to.

‘Get your hands off the Hokage’s death, Princess Tsunade,’ Danzo said bitterly.

‘But it is totally ridiculous!’ Tsunade cried. ‘You sent an entire team after Fumihiro and Hiromichi, and not a single one of them has returned! They should have been back days ago!’

Hiruzen puffed out a long stream of smoke from his pipe. He felt deeply troubled, for Tsunade had a point – he _had_ sent Komako, Jun, and two of Komako’s students to seek out information regarding the disappearance of the Uchiha and Hyuga boys, under the upmost secrecy, of course, so as not to aggravate Kagero or the Land of Mountains any more than the war already had, and they had yet to return. What was worse, they hadn’t even reported their status. The last time Hiruzen had heard from Komako was when they had crossed the border. It was exactly the same thing that happened to Fumihiro and Hiromichi.

‘I understand your concerns, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen said. ‘She is your mother, after all. But don’t forget, she is a Jonin and a Senju – you of all people know what that means. And Jun and the two Chuunin who were with her are formidable themselves. If they ran into trouble, I am sure they’re merely finding a way out of it and are unable to communicate at this time.’

‘That’s exactly what you said about the boys, and they’ve been gone for weeks!’ Tsunade exclaimed, anger boiling up her throat. ‘You need to sent more people after them. A bigger force, the ANBU, I don’t care. Just someone.’

Before Hiruzen could reply and try to quell her rising temper, Danzo crept forward.

‘I do not advise such a move, Hokage,’ he said, his voice dry and slow. The years had not been kind to Danzo – his looks were steadily fading, and his voice with it. ‘Sending a large force even close to Kagero will only exacerbate the war further. I predict it will not take much longer for it to resolve, so pushing more elite forces anywhere near the Land of Mountains will merely ruin our chances of obtaining peace.’

‘Then just send one small team! Hell, send me! You know I’m skilled enough to handle this on my own, and if you’re worried, send Orochimaru and Jiraiya with me!’ Tsunade protested, shooting a cold look at Danzo.

‘But then we would find ourselves in a similar situation,’ Danzo argued. ‘If your mother, Lord First’s daughter, and a team of skilled Konoha Shinobi were able to be apprehended – or worse – by the enemy, there is no telling what you would face. Should you fail to return, we’d have to send someone after _you_ , and so on and so forth.’

‘I’m sorry, Danzo, I was under the impression I was talking to the Hokage, not you,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘Keep your nose out of it.’

‘Tsunade, enough,’ Hiruzen said sternly. ‘You cannot talk to my advisors in that manner. Danzo is here for a reason – to help guide me into making the right decisions.’

‘Oh, so you lack your own mind, then?’ Tsunade snapped. ‘You’re meant to be the Hokage! Take some responsibility and listen to your _own_ advice! That’s what my Uncle would do!’

‘And while Lord Second was a fine Shinobi, he made countless mistakes on account of his arrogance,’ Danzo muttered.

Tsunade’s fists clenched. ‘What did you say, you old bag?!’

‘Tsunade!’ Hiruzen said, standing up from his chair. ‘Please, control yourself! I understand you are distressed, but being so disrespectful to your superiors will not endear me to your cause!’

‘He just disrespected your predecessor and your Sensei right in front of you, and that’s your response?’ Tsunade shouted.

‘There are bigger things to worry about right now!’ Hiruzen replied. ‘I am worried for Komako and her team as well, Tsunade. But the situation is…complicated. Danzo is right. Send a large force, and we’re practically inviting more conflict. Send a lone Shinobi, or even a small team, and they might not return. I already risked your mother and three other Shinobi for the sake of two – I cannot risk more.’

‘Then what the hell are you going to do about it then, huh? Just leave them alone to -’ Tsunade couldn’t finish her sentence, unable to utter the word ‘die’. It would become too real if she did.

Hiruzen sighed. He didn’t want to leave any of them, and truthfully, he was in half a mind to go himself. Six of his precious citizens had disappeared under his watch, and if it was appropriate, he’d be on his way to Kagero Village right at that moment. But he was the Hokage. He had responsibilities beyond a few Shinobi, and he couldn’t abandon his post during a time of war. Perhaps that had been Tobirama’s mistake?

‘Listen to me, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen began. ‘Danzo is speaking the truth – this conflict with Kagero will burn out soon enough, as we are slowly persuading them into peace talks. If we send any more Shinobi, even undercover, to their land, any hopes of peace will slip through our fingers. We’ll lose more people in the long run. The best we can hope for it that we will recover them when the conflict is over, and trust they are alright. There is too much at risk to pursue the matter further.’

Tsunade gaped at him, the colour draining from her face. ‘Are – are you kidding me?’ she stuttered. ‘She’s my mother! Not only that, she’s the Head of the Senju family now Uncle Tobirama is gone, _and_ the First Hokage’s daughter! She – she’s important!’

‘More important than the others, then?’ Danzo said.

‘To me, yes!’ Tsunade cried. ‘I could stand here and preach about how desperate I am for you to recover Fumihiro and the others, but – but my main priority is making sure she’s safe! Can you blame me for that?’

Hiruzen lowered his eyes. ‘No, Tsunade. I cannot. But our hands are tied.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ Tsunade yelled, throwing her arms out. ‘Is everything you said in your inauguration speech one big fat lie, then? What happened to the whole ‘ _I see you all as my own family, and as I would fight to my dying breath to protect my blood, so too would I for each and every one of you’_ , huh?! Did those words mean nothing to you?!’

Hiruzen gripped his hands together on the desk’s surface. Trust Tsunade to remember what he said, word for word. He felt ashamed. She was right, but what could he do?

‘I’m truly sorry, Tsunade,’ he said softly. ‘But sometimes, we have to make difficult decisions. You’ll understand that when you become a Jonin.’

‘To hell with that,’ she spat. ‘If being a Jonin means following your crack-pot orders, or buying into the idea of abandoning my comrades, then screw it. Screw you. Both of you.’

‘Tsunade!’ Hiruzen cried, as Tsunade turned on her heels and threw open the door. ‘Please, don’t do anything rash! Defying my orders will put you a difficult position – I implore you, think about what you’re doing!’

‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ she hissed. ‘More so than you, clearly. If Uncle Tobirama or my Grandfather were still Hokage, then this…this never would have happened!’

Hiruzen could do little but stare after her as she slammed the door shut, fuming. He put his face in his hands.

‘Oh, goodness. Her temper is as bad as Tobirama-sensei’s,’ he mumbled.

‘You don’t think she’ll be going off by herself, do you?’ Danzo asked.

‘I couldn’t say for certain,’ Hiruzen sighed. ‘But she is stubborn and impassioned.’

‘If she directly ignores your orders, Sarutobi, her chances of Jonin promotion will go down the drain,’ Danzo said.

Hiruzen sighed again, glancing up at the portraits of Hashirama and Tobirama that hung on the far wall. ‘I don’t think she particularly cares about that right now. I’ll ask Mito to keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t do anything too hasty.’

But Hiruzen didn’t even have time to express his concerns to Mito before Tsunade was heading for the gate. She was thinking of little else but pure fury. Her anxiety about her mother’s safety was festering in the pit of her stomach, and while she knew she was capable, she couldn’t stop the feeling of dread manifesting deep in her heart. She knew where Kagero Village was, and she knew roughly the route her mother would have taken. There was nothing else for it – without even looking back, Tsunade left Konoha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was quite the complex chapter to write, although I did have help from the anime. For anyone who is interested, the conflict with Kagero Village was mentioned in a filler arc of Naruto, and I have taken the prophecy directly from the subbed episode of Naruto Shippuden. I think the episode was called 'Tales of a Gutsy Ninja', or something along those lines :)  
> Like I said, I'm aiming to upload twice a week, but that may drop to once a week - I'm in the process of finishing a Masters qualification, and my deadline is rearing its ugly head. But I'll keep you updated!  
> Thank you for the kind comments thus far - always nice to read 'em if you have the time xo


	15. The First Deadlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru considers his deepest feelings, Tsunade reminisces, and Jiraiya experiences his worst fear.

Chapter 15 – The First Deadlock

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

‘I never expected this of Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, as he and Jiraiya raced through the trees away from Konoha.

‘You’re telling me. If anyone was gonna defy old Sarutobi-sensei and ditch the village, I figured it would be you, or something,’ Jiraiya replied, only half joking.

Orochimaru decided not to ask what Jiraiya meant by that. He didn’t have time to feel irked – Hiruzen had ordered them after Tsunade after it became apparent that she wasn’t in the village. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she had gone after her mother – Komako’s team had failed to report to Hiruzen when they reached the outskirts of Kagero, and given the track record of both Fumihiro Hyuga and Hiromichi Uchiha going missing around the same area, it wasn’t a stretch to assume Komako’s team had run into similar trouble. Of course, the crux of the issue was that Komako, Jun, and the two Chuunin, Noriko and Touta, were no joke. If they really had run into difficulty, that meant the enemy were a formidable force. Though truthfully, Orochimaru didn’t know if Hiruzen was truly worried for Tsunade’s safety, or if he was merely frustrated that she had so actively opposed him. Either way, he and Jiraiya found themselves chasing after her, tracking her movements. In her erratic haste, Tsunade had done little to mask her path, so it wasn’t difficult to pick up her trail.

‘Do – d’you think she’s alright?’ Jiraiya said anxiously. His hair was pushed back by the wind, and the worry on his face was as clear as day.

‘Tsunade is a very capable Kunoichi,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘I’ve little doubt that she’ll be just fine, but remember, our mission is not to aid her. It’s to bring her back.’

‘Yeah. I guess,’ Jiraiya replied. Privately, Jiraiya was rapidly finding himself at an impasse. They had very clear instructions from Hiruzen – _bring Tsunade back before she interferes with Kagero Village_ – but honestly, he thought she was right to make a move. If it had been his father in a similar situation, he would have gone to help with or without the Hokage’s permission. Not to mention that Fumihiro and Hiromichi were their classmates; of course, he wouldn’t forget Fumihiro getting into a fight with them back when they were kids, but he was still a Shinobi of Konoha and a comrade. Could he really bring himself to stop Tsunade?

‘She covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time,’ Orochimaru said, slightly out of breath.

‘Can you blame her?’ Jiraiya said. ‘I mean, it _is_ her mother we’re talking about here. If I was in her shoes, I doubt I could bring myself to leave it alone even if Sarutobi-sensei explicitly asked me to.’

‘We have a mission to complete, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said sharply. ‘You can’t let sentimentality get the better of you. And don’t forget, Sarutobi-sensei _has_ explicitly asked us to leave it alone. We cannot risk endangering the peace treaty we’ve nearly struck with Kagero, and storming in there looking for Komako and the others is practically a declaration of war.’

‘I know, I know,’ Jiraiya mumbled.

The two of them travelled without resting, eager to catch up to Tsunade. She had at least half a day’s journey ahead of the boys, and, judging by the tracks she had left, was showing no sign of slowing down. Kagero Village, which was deep in the Land of Mountains, was a three-day journey no matter how fast Orochimaru and Jiraiya ran. After a day and half, they reached the border of the Land of Mountains. It was hot and dry and they were both exhausted, and feeling the beginnings of frustration.

‘I thought you said we were getting close to her?’ Jiraiya huffed, peeling off his sandals to give his sore feet a break. Orochimaru wrinkled his nose.

‘I said I _thought_ we were,’ he muttered. ‘There’s no telling how far ahead of us she is now. We lost her tracks a good two miles back.’

‘We couldn’t have passed her, could we?’ Jiraiya said, sourly remembering a tracking mission he and Tsunade had taken when they were 12. Jiraiya had been so overtly eager to have a mission alone with her – well, another Shinobi was there too, but he didn’t bother with them – that he had completely gone of course. It turned out that he had actually led them ahead of the person they were tracking, and they ended up having to double-back on themselves. It complicated the whole mission and Tsunade was furious. She hated being shown up in front of other people. Regardless, it was a good learning experience.

‘Unless she stopped for a large chunk of time, I wouldn’t have imagined so,’ Orochimaru said, fiddling with the ends of his dark hair. He wore it down that day, and it fell in thick sheets around his narrow face.

‘Is that likely?’

‘Goodness, I don’t know, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said impatiently.

‘Some Jonin you are,’ Jiraiya muttered.

Orochimaru’s yellow eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Well, forgive me, Oh Great Chosen One, but I’ve yet to master the power of mind reading. When I’ve managed to decipher the complex mechanics that allows someone to infiltrate the psyche, I’ll be sure to let you know.’

‘Sheesh,’ Jiraiya said, beating the dirt out of his sandal, ‘I only figured you knew her mind better since I’ve been gone for a year, that’s all.’

‘Nonsense. If anyone knows Tsunade the best, it’s you,’ Orochimaru said, somewhat bitterly. He tried not to let something as trivial as ‘who liked who’ get in the way of his relationship with his teammates, but he was constantly operating under the anxiousness that Tsunade and Jiraiya shared something he could never tap in to. It stung even more since _he_ was the one who first initiated friendly contact with her. But there was something that he, as a person, seemed to lack. Whatever that ‘something’ was, Jiraiya had it in bucketloads.

‘I dunno, to be frank,’ Jiraiya said, who had taken to bravely sniffing at his sandals, before going a bit green. ‘I mean, I know we spent a lot of time together when you were busy training with the ANBU, but honestly, I can’t say I know her any better than you do. And I definitely have the first clue about how long she’d rest, if at all.’ 

‘If her impulsiveness is anything to go by, not long,’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘But we have been travelling for nearly 2 days without rest. What’s say we make camp for tonight, and try to pick up her trail again tomorrow?’

‘You’re the Jonin-in-charge,’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘You say jump, I say how high.’

Orochimaru pressed his lips together. Ever since he had been made a Jonin long before Jiraiya, he couldn’t help but feel like the white-haired boy had something against him. It was odd. There were moments when everything seemed perfect, just like when they were children – he enthusiasm about Orochimaru’s promotion to Sensei and his willingness to express his anxiousness about the Prophecy were prime examples of this – but other times, when the façade seemed to dwindle with the dying light, Orochimaru felt what he could only describe as resentment pulsing from Jiraiya’s very being.

As Jiraiya busied himself building a fire (which seemed a little unnecessary, given the warmth), Orochimaru leant back against a tree and closed his eyes. It had been so much easier when they were children. He and Jiraiya always had a healthy rivalry, that much was true, but there was never any bad blood between them. It was only as they grew into their Shinobi shoes that the gap between them started to weigh on Jiraiya’s shoulders. Orochimaru could only assume that the Prophecy had added to this weight, and, as his energy lessened, Jiraiya couldn’t keep up his pretence of gracious praise every time Orochimaru moved ahead of him. He hated to think it, but Orochimaru felt like something was shifting between them.

And then there was Tsunade. Jiraiya was right – she was hard to read. When they were younger, Orochimaru remembered with great fondness her total inability to disguise what she was thinking. While offensive, he used to find great amusement in the face she pulled when she ate the food he’d prepared, before Jiraiya’s careful tutorage. But as she grew older, she got better and better at making sure no one could read her. Orochimaru didn’t know why she did it, but he felt like he’d lost that innocent, funny version of her. Jiraiya had promised things wouldn’t change, that they’d always be together. But growing up _had_ already changed them, with or without their consent. And it made Orochimaru’s stomach feel like it had turned to stone.

‘There,’ Jiraiya said quietly, having secured a roaring fire between them. He moved closer to it, the glow of the flames shining against the darkness of his eyes. The sun was dipping in the sky, and as the night came in, the two of them felt more on edge. There was something heavy in the air.

‘Say, Oro,’ Jiraiya murmured, sweat on his forehead from sitting too close to the open fire, ‘we’re technically in enemy territory now, right?’

‘I suppose we are,’ Orochimaru said, feeling the hairs on the back of neck stand up. ‘Kagero Village is one of the Shinobi villages in the heartlands, here. I can’t imagine we would be welcome.’

Tentatively, Jiraiya hooked his index finger through the loop of a kunai. ‘Do you reckon one of us ought to keep watch while the other sleeps?’

Orochimaru nodded slowly. ‘I think that would be wise.’

A couple of hours later, Jiraiya was snoring contently while Orochimaru kept an ear out for any unwelcome visitors. The fire had gone out long ago, the wisps of the woodsmoke clinging to their clothes. Sighing, Orochimaru watched Jiraiya’s silhouette move up and down with the rigor of his snores. For a moment they could have been Genin again, when they had sleepovers if the other felt lonely. Orochimaru spent a lot of time at Jiraiya’s house growing up, and when he left for Myoboku, he missed him. He thought of him every single day without fail, and for a while, he didn’t really think anything of it. It was only when he got older that he started to wonder if his feelings might have meant something more.

It was hard to tell; after all, Tsunade had shown no interest in the opposite sex, or indeed the same sex, and Orochimaru didn’t exactly have any other people his age to help navigate the strange world of puberty time had thrust on his shoulders. Whatever it was, Orochimaru was starting to think what he felt for Jiraiya was more than just friendship. It didn’t help that he’d swanned back from Myoboku nearing six foot, broad shouldered and easy on the eye. Orochimaru wasn’t blind. He knew an attractive person when he saw one. But the fact that he didn’t really care for anyone else’s looks _but_ Jiraiya’s started to play on his mind. He spent so much time with Tsunade, and wasn’t also blind to her obvious development. While the teenage populace of Konoha seemed to drool over her, he never felt that reaction.

‘It’s because she’s like your family,’ he muttered to himself.

‘Huh?’ Jiraiya mumbled sleepily, rolling over with a snort.

‘Nothing,’ Orochimaru said quietly. He hated how endearing he found Jiraiya, even when he was snoring like a pig.

There was the crack of a twig from behind him, and Orochimaru immediately abandoned his contemplations.

‘Who’s there?’ he called out sternly. Jiraiya jerked awake, this time properly, and squinted in the darkness.

‘Keep your hair on, Oro,’ came a familiar voice. ‘It’s just me.’

In the low light, Tsunade appeared to them. Her temple was smeared with a line of blood, but the cut had long since healed thanks to her skills. But she was looking a little worse of wear – her clothes were dusty and torn in places, and her hair was falling loosely around her face.

‘Tsunade!’ Jiraiya said, immediately jumping up to greet her. ‘Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?’

Before he had a chance to get to her, though, Orochimaru threw out his arm to stop him in his tracks.

‘H-hey!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Making sure it’s really Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, his voice low. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to use the Transformation Technique, after all. Before we let her anywhere near us, we have to make sure it’s her.’

‘Get real, Orochimaru,’ Tsunade said dismissively. ‘You know it’s me. You’ve been tracking me, haven’t you? Of course I’d be waiting at the end of your route.’

‘I don’t care,’ Orochimaru said severely. ‘It’s basic Chuunin-level initiative. To determine you really are who you say you are, I’m going to ask you something only Tsunade would know.’

The boys paused for thought, while Tsunade drummed her fingers against thigh impatiently.

‘Okay, I’ve got one,’ Jiraiya said triumphantly. ‘How many targets did you miss at the shuriken demonstration Lord Second and your old man came to oversee?’

‘For God’s sake, will you let that go already?!’ Tsunade snarled.

Jiraiya grinned. ‘Yep. That’s definitely Tsu.’

Orochimaru didn’t move his arm from in front of Jiraiya’s torso, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘A lot of people were in attendance that day. Anyone could answer that question.’

‘Oh, c’mon, Oro,’ Jiraiya huffed. ‘It was only us lot and our class at the Academy. Why would any Konoha Shinobi wanna disguise themselves as Tsunade?’

‘Several reasons,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Whatsmore, I’m only following protocol. We cannot let our guard down – we’re in enemy territory, don’t forget. So, I’m going to ask her something only Tsunade herself would know.’

Hands on her hips, Tsunade raised her eyebrows. ‘Go ahead. Since I’m not a freaking fake, I will answer it with ease.’

Orochimaru nodded. ‘Fine. That day in the hospital, after Jiraiya was hurt on one of our missions, what did I accuse you of?’

Tsunade looked at him blankly for a moment. ‘Accuse me of? I…you didn’t accuse me of anything, Oro. You were upset. You cried.’

‘Wait, you cried for me?’ Jiraiya spluttered.

Orochimaru felt his porcelain cheeks flush with warmth. ‘That doesn’t matter right now. And I did, Tsunade. I explicitly accused you of not understanding something.’

A flicker of grief passed over Tsunade’s face as the memory dawned on her. She lowered her eyes. ‘You told me I could never understand how you and Jiraiya felt. Because I haven’t lost anyone.’

‘Ouch,’ Jiraiya said, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Bit harsh, Oro.’

‘That is correct,’ Orochimaru said, sighing with relief. ‘I’m sorry to have put you through that, Tsunade, but I had to be sure.’

‘No, it’s alright,’ Tsunade said. ‘But what the hell are you two doing here? I could hear Jiraiya’s snoring from a mile off.’

‘Hey! I’m not that bad!’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘We’re here on Sarutobi-sensei’s orders,’ Orochimaru explained calmly. ‘He sent us after you the moment you left the village without permission.’

‘Did he really? Gosh, I didn’t realise he cared so much,’ Tsunade said sarcastically.

‘This is serious, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said. ‘He is not happy with you, not in the slightest. You’ve completely ruined your chances of Jonin promotion thanks to this little stunt.’

‘It isn’t a stunt,’ Tsunade snapped. ‘Sarutobi-sensei made the cowardly decision to leave my mother and her Team to fend for themselves when they failed to return, so I’m simply -’

‘– they are Shinobi!’ Orochimaru interrupted. ‘It’s their job to fend for themselves. You directly went against the Hokage’s orders, in the middle of a war, no less, and now you think you have the authority to justify your actions. You don’t even have a leg to stand on right now.’

‘So, I’m guessing you haven’t been sent here to give me a hand?’ Tsunade said dryly.

Orochimaru tightened his fists. ‘No. We’ve been sent to retrieve you.’

Tsunade sighed and looked at her feet. The sun was steadily coming up behind the line of mountains that represented the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Mountains. Kagero Village was another day and a half’s journey at least, and she was in no mood for stalling. She had already had a run-in with some rogues on an ego trip who had the audacity to raise their fists, so she’d lost time. She couldn’t afford to.

‘Look,’ she said. ‘I know you have your orders, and since you’re a decent Shinobi, you’ll undoubtedly aim to follow them. But hear me out for a second.’

‘There is no argument to be had,’ Orochimaru said dismissively.

‘Then you’ll have to take me back by force, Orochimaru, because I will not come quietly,’ Tsunade said, her voice laced with anger. Orochimaru didn’t miss the absence of his nickname.

Hurriedly, Jiraiya stepped between them. ‘Easy, guys. I’m sure we can reach some sort of mutually beneficial compromise, right?’

‘There is no compromise to be had,’ Orochimaru said. ‘She broke the rules, and we’re here to clean up the mess she’s made because of it.’

‘If you want to clear up a mess, then help me!’ Tsunade said. ‘Kagero Village – or whoever else it might be – have taken _five_ of our comrades. And goodness knows what’s happened to them. All I want is to do the right thing, even if it means defying Sarutobi-sensei’s wishes. I’m sorry, Orochimaru. That’s just the way it is.’

‘You weren’t so passionate about this when it was just Fumihiro Hyuga and Hiromichi Uchiha who had gone missing,’ Orochimaru spat.

‘That’s because they’re not my family!’ Tsunade said.

‘Do you have any idea how selfish you’re sounding right now, Tsunade?’ Orochimaru snapped. ‘You are interfering in something much bigger than any single Shinobi. There’s a war going on, in case it escaped your notice, and you aggravating Kagero in any way will undoubtedly fan the flames of war. Think about what you’re doing, for goodness sake.’

‘Oh, forgive me for wanting to protect what’s important to me,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘Though I don’t suppose you’d understand that sentiment, would you? It’s not like there’s anyone left who is actually important to you!’

‘You’re important to me!’ Orochimaru shouted, so loudly that the birds scattered into the light of the dawn. ‘Don’t you see? I’m trying to _help_ you here!’

‘If you want to help, then let me go! Or better yet, come with me!’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ Orochimaru shot back. ‘I want to help ensure you return the village. You may think you’re untouchable, being the village’s precious ‘Princess’ and all that nonsense, but you’re still a Shinobi of Konoha, and therefore are answerable to the Hokage! If you keep acting up like this, Sarutobi-sensei won’t just let you off. You know that, don’t you?’

‘I – I don’t care!’ Tsunade exclaimed. ‘This is my mother we’re talking about! What – what if something has happened to her? I would never forgive myself if I just sat idly by while she suffered!’

‘But you’re risking so much more than the life of one Shinboi, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, trying to lower his voice. ‘I like Komako, and I can understand everything you’re feeling – the frustration, the anxiousness, the anger – I know it tenfold. Don’t forget that I had to wait weeks to find out what became of my parents. I understand your pain.’

‘Then why won’t you help me?’ Tsunade demanded. ‘If you know how it feels, why won’t you do something to stop me feeling like this?’

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. ‘Because those are our orders.’

Tsunade pressed her lips together. ‘Then I’m sorry, Orochimaru, but you’ll have to fight me, because I sure as hell am not leaving voluntarily.’

‘Gladly,’ Orochimaru said, through gritted teeth. ‘If you’re doing to be so impertinent and difficult, then you leave me no other choice. I can’t imagine it’ll be too much of a fight, thought. After all, it’s not like you can use wood release.’

In a split second, Tsunade’s fist was a millimetre away from Orochimaru’s face, but before she landed her hit, Jiraiya had caught her wrist.

‘Enough!’ he shouted. ‘What the heck are you two playing at, huh?! You’re meant to be teammates! More than that, actually – you guys are friends! Why the hell are you happy about fighting each other?!’

‘You heard her,’ Orochimaru said, privately relieved Jiraiya had stopped the punch. ‘If we’re going to complete our mission, we’ll have to use force.’

‘I’d rather fail the mission than raise my fists against her, and you should feel the same,’ Jiraiya said flatly. 

‘You don’t understand. Neither of you,’ Orochimaru growled, grinding his teeth in irritation. While a big part of him was furious at them for being so immature about the Shinobi way, he knew he couldn’t really blame them. But what they didn’t know was that there was more than just the state of the war against Kagero at stake. Orochimaru absolutely _had_ to succeed. He needed a completely flawless record if he was going to join the Root faction of the ANBU. More importantly, he needed a one hundred percent success rate if Danzo would make good on his promise. Orochimaru still didn’t know what had truly happened to his parents, and the only way he’d get any peace was if Danzo told him. He felt for Tsunade, he really did, but he needed answers.

‘Oro, come on,’ Jiraiya said exasperatedly. ‘You know Komako. And you know Mito and Nawaki, too – could you really look them in the eyes when it gets out that we make Tsunade ditch her renegade mission?’

‘Don’t try and guilt trip me, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said stiffly. ‘This isn’t about them. Whatsmore, you clearly had no intention of bringing Tsunade back with us, did you?’

Jiraiya looked rather guilty, and scuffed his sandals in the dirt. ‘It – it’s not as simple as that. I just see both sides of the argument, that’s all.’

‘You have direct orders from the Hokage. We are bound by Shinobi Law to follow them,’ Orochimaru said hotly, not liking the feeling of getting ganged up on.

‘That’s all very well and good, but…but what if Sarutobi-sensei is wrong?’ Jiraiya replied. ‘I mean, think about it. Are you really comfortable abandoning our comrades like this to goodness knows what?’

‘My comfort is of little relevance,’ Orochimaru said stiffly, thinking of all the unfortunate missions he had undertaken on behalf of Danzo. ‘What’s important right now is to do as Sarutobi-sensei has requested and bring Tsunade back to the village before she can cause any damage.’

‘I don’t intend to do any damage. You know that,’ Tsunade said, through gritted teeth.

‘Grow up, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru snapped. ‘Whether or not you _intend_ to be a virtuous angel, it doesn’t always make it so. If you make one wrong move, Kagero will retaliate. Do you really want the deaths of more Shinobi weighing on your conscience?’

‘Of course not – that’s why I’m trying to something _now_ for the Shinobi who are missing!’ Tsunade said.

‘We’re going around in circles here,’ Jiraiya said, still stood between them cautiously. ‘Look, I know I have no jurisdiction here, and I don’t want to upset either of you, but…Tsunade is right. It would be wrong to abandon them, not now we’re so close.’

Orochimaru shook his head. ‘You’re both being ridiculous!’

‘We’re not, Orochimaru. Don’t forget, you once said to me that what you wanted, more than anything, was to stop the cycle of loss,’ Tsunade said, playing absentmindedly with her necklace. ‘Can’t you see that’s what I’m trying to do here? I don’t want to aggravate things with Kagero. Far from it, in fact. All I want…is to protect our fellow Konoha Shinobi. And while it’s true I acted because of my mother’s absence, I genuinely want to prevent their loss. Or even avenge their loss, if the worst – if the worst has happened. I know you want to do the same thing, Oro. I know your heart. You want to protect the people you care about and stop their pain. So please, forget about Sarutobi-sensei for a moment. Forget about the mission. Focus on what’s important to _you_. Because honestly, I think your ethos is more important than your mission success.’

Orochimaru stared at her. He remembered, that fated day in the hospital, when he had cried into her and she hugged him the way his mother used to. He squeezed his eyes shut. _Mother_. He wanted to find out what happened to her, and his father, and the only way to do that was a perfect score. But at the same time, Tsunade was still alive. She was stood right in front of him, pleading to him. He felt like he was on the edge of a great abyss – one foot wrong, and there would be no going back. She would never forgive him. Was he willing to sacrifice her friendship for the sake of his parents, who had been dead for a decade? Was he really willing to let her slip through his fingers, as so many had done before?

Logically speaking, he knew Jiraiya would side with her. He might have even loved her, or whatever form of love teenagers could muster. While that thought made Orochimaru’s blood boil, he had to acknowledge it – as skilled as he was, he’d struggle against the pair of them. If he did decide to complete the mission, would he even be able to take them both on at the same time? Was the fact he was even thinking along those lines evidence that he’d made up his mind? 

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ Tsunade decided, her hands falling against her sides. ‘If I fight you, I’ve already lost.’

_She is your dear friend. She needs you. Isn’t this what you’ve always craved – to be needed?_ Orochimaru felt like a rubber band was tightening around his neck. He’d never been faced with a truly moral conundrum before. It seemed almost clichéd, how dramatic he was feeling about the whole thing. _She’s your friend. She’s hurting. She needs you. Do something._

He had always been drawn to broken things. Be it objects or people, he felt a strange tug to gravitate around them. It was evidence that everything crumbled and faded away. That the world moves forward. And he liked broken people because they made him feel like he was the one in control. Was that why he was so drawn to Tsunade, those few weeks after Hashirama’s death? And Jiraiya, too? He was the underdog with no one rooting for him. He needed a friend. And Orochimaru had fulfilled that purpose – because as much as he revolved around the broken little things, he wanted to fix them. He wanted something permanent, not fleeting. Something frozen in a pocket of time. _Is that what friends are? Are they the people who never change? Never fade away?_

He thought of Danzo. If he impressed him enough, there was still a chance he would find out about his parents. But his parents were already gone. Tsunade was not.

‘Okay,’ he whispered, as if someone else was speaking through him. ‘Okay.’

*

Things were relatively tense at the campsite, for obvious reasons, but the fact Orochimaru had decided to help Tsunade instead of force her back to Konoha was a step in the right direction. There was still much to be done – they had to look for signs of the missing Shinobi without alerting Kagero, and more importantly, they still had to reach it. With a long day ahead of the trio, Jiraiya sourced breakfast for them, which was always a dangerous game.

‘I found these mushrooms growing in the mountain,’ he said triumphantly. ‘I reckon we could stew this up nice and crispy, or something.’

‘What do you mean, growing in the mountain?’ Tsunade said, eyeing the dark grey fungi suspiciously.

‘Well, there was a whole cluster of them just sort of growing through the cracks in the stone,’ he shrugged. ‘And don’t worry, they’re not gonna kill us. Don’t forget, I like to cook, so I gotta know my mushrooms!’

‘Are you sure?’ Orochimaru mumbled, poking one of the mushroom caps. His fingernail left a slight indent in the spongy texture, and he pulled a face. He wasn’t an expert, but he didn’t recognise the species before him. Then again, there was something in their greyish colourings that seemed to revive something in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

‘Yeah, I’m sure! Trust me on this,’ Jiraiya said, chucking them onto a flat stone he’d sourced to act as a plate. The heat from the fire caused them to start crackling almost immediately, and Jiraiya carefully poked at them with a kunai as they stewed merrily. A strange aroma was wafting from them, and Orochimaru wrinkled his nose.

‘On second thoughts, I’m going to see if I can find any other ingredients,’ he grimaced, standing up.

‘Suit yourself. There’s not a lot out there, believe me,’ Jiraiya shrugged.

As Orochimaru skulked away to forage, Jiraiya turned to Tsunade. She was looking absentmindedly as the watery sun made its way up the sky, playing with her necklace.

‘Are you alright, Tsu?’ he asked, edging closer towards her.

Tsunade sighed and didn’t look at him. ‘I’m just worried about her. Thanks for before, by the way. You didn’t have to stand up for me like that.’

‘Well, I’m just doing what’s right,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I couldn’t leave Komako or the others in good conscience, either. Never could. If you didn’t make a move, I probably would have sooner or later.’

‘You mean that?’

‘Sure I do,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Your family has always been good to me and Orochimaru. I couldn’t stand by and watch Komako be abandoned like that – be it for your sake, Mito’s, or Nawaki’s.’

Tsunade smirked sinisterly. ‘Not my father, then?’

‘Not likely. I’d die happy if I can avoid doing him any favours,’ Jiraiya muttered.

Tsunade turned to him, her expression serious. ‘He does love her, you know. Once upon a time, I even think they were happy. But time changes people, and often for the worst.’

‘You’re really going to justify his behaviour to me?’ Jiraiya snorted. ‘Tsunade, he made you miserable. You’ll deny it ‘till the cows come home, but I’m not an idiot. You were always happier when he was away from the village.’

‘Not always,’ Tsunade said sadly. ‘You know, before I knew you and Oro, and before he became so…’

‘So obsessive?’ Jiraiya offered.

‘Yeah. That,’ Tsunade agreed. ‘Before that, I actually think he was a good person. This isn’t me defending him, but there was a time when he doted on me and worshipped my mother. I know he still has that love for us, and for Nawaki, but with everything he’s seen, his way of affection has become warped.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘It’s true. I remember, actually, at my fifth birthday party,’ Tsunade said, a very sad smile on her face. ‘This was before I enrolled at the Academy, before Grandfather passed away, and even before my Great-uncle officially became the Hokage. But essentially, my parents and my Grandmother put together the most extravagant party. There was a giant cake, obviously, bunting my father had made by hand, and so many tables and chairs that it felt like the whole village could have come. My father had this great big smile on his face all day long, and when the time came for people to arrive…no one showed. I wasn’t a popular kid, you know that. The other children my age were either frightened of me, or fed up. Even at 5, you know things, and I knew no one being there meant I was…I don’t know. But the thing is, I tried really, really hard not to cry. My parents and Grandmother had gone to so much trouble to make my day special, but when the cake came out with all the candles, I just…I just burst into tears. And do you know what my father did?’

‘What?’ Jiraiya said, feeling a lump in his throat at the thought of such a sad image.

‘He cried too,’ Tsunade said. ‘He was so upset that I was upset, I actually ended up comforting _him_. All he wanted that day was for me to be happy, and the fact that I cried was the complete opposite of it. But in the end, to cheer me up, he gave me permission to use the cake for a massive food fight. Poor Grandmother was slightly heartbroken, since she’d made it, but it was so much _fun_. My mother caught my father right in the face with this huge fistful of icing, and he called himself ‘Mr. Frosting’ for the rest of the week because it made me smile.’

Jiraiya let her talk. There was no place for interruption.

‘It was only…only when I joined the Academy that he started to lose sight of what’s important. He became so obsessed with the Senju way, with wood release, that I think he stopped looking at me like I was his daughter, but more like I was an asset to Konoha. And it sucks, because I didn’t deserve how he treated me. But I don’t think I hate him. Not for real, anyway. Because part of me still thinks he’s Mr. Frosting. It’s stupid, I know, but I’m saving my mother for his sake, as well as the rest of the family’s. Because he did love us. I hope he still does. And if he loses her, there really will be no going back.’

Sniffing, Jiraiya laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll find her,’ he promised. ‘One way or another, we’ll bring her home. All of them’

Tsunade, rather unexpectedly, reached round and placed her fingers over Jiraiya’s hand. Her fingers were roughened and cold against his warm hands, and she circled the pads of her fingers over his calloused knuckles. It was an affectionate gesture, but for once, Jiraiya’s brain didn’t short-circuit because of it. He knew Tsunade had just divulged something incredibly personal to him, and he wasn’t going to make it weird. Taichi Senju was a tormented soul, that much was true, but he had hurt Tsunade, scared her, manipulated her, and made her feel small. There was no excuse for his behaviour, but Jiraiya didn’t say that aloud. All that mattered was finding Komako and her Team.

‘Mushrooms are done,’ he said softly, shifting his hand from her shoulder. He missed her touch. ‘You hungry?’

Tsunade nodded. ‘Yeah. Besides, we’re going to need all our energy in the coming days.’

Out in the forest, Orochimaru was eyeing up a rabbit who was quietly nibbling away at a patch of grass. Quickly, he reached for his kunai, and the little creature twitched, as if sensing the movement. Orochimaru froze. It always amazed him, how attuned to sound and movement the mammals of the forest were. He supposed having a fear of everything instilled such a survival instinct in their DNA.

‘Fear-caps!’ Orochimaru suddenly exclaimed, completely startling the rabbit. It bolted for the mountains, but he didn’t notice. He had just recalled where he’d seen the mushrooms before. They were in a book of Shinobi poisons (he was a bit surprised Tsunade hadn’t noticed), but they weren’t ‘poisonous’ as such. Eating them, however, induced a vivid, genjutsu-like trace in which the consumer would experience their greatest fears. It was a good way to trap an enemy without casting a genjutsu on them, and so long as they were consistently supplied with them – be it by consumption, or injection of the essence – they would be trapped. The effects would wear off should exposure be halted, but not for some time. And Jiraiya and Tsunade were currently chowing down on said mushrooms.

‘Jiraiya! Tsunade!’ he shouted, pelting full-force to the campsite. He dodged through the trees at stop speed, desperately trying to remember how to coax someone out of a Fear-cap fever dream without having to wait, given they were on a time-sensitive mission. All he could remember from the book was how intense and unpleasant the side effects could be.

‘Dammit. I shouldn’t have left them,’ he muttered to himself.

When he arrived at the campsite, Tsunade was gagging dramatically, having spat out the mushrooms.

‘Jiraiya, what the hell?!’ she spluttered. ‘They are absolutely _disgusting_. How can you stomach them?!’

Orochimaru blinked at the greyish sludge Tsunade had spat out, and then at Jiraiya, whose cheeks were bulging with the Fear-cap mushrooms.

‘They aren’t so bad, they’re just a bit – oof! Orochimaru, what the heck are you playing at?!’

Orochimaru had skidded behind Jiraiya and was performing what could only be described at the Heimlich manoeuvre, trying to force Jiraiya to regurgitate the mushrooms he’d just ingested.

‘Spit – them – out!’ Orochimaru ordered, squeezing his arms against Jiraiya’s torso with every word.

‘Oro, what the hell are you doing?’ Tsunade spluttered.

‘These bloody mushrooms – are – Fear-caps!’ he exclaimed, disgruntled as Jiraiya shoved him off. ‘If you eat them, you’ll be sucked into a genjutsu replaying your deepest fears!’

‘I feel like I’m already enduring my deepest fear,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘I mean, I’m stuck on the side of a mountain with a couple of idiots. What could possibly be worse than – hey, Jiraiya? Are you alright?’

Jiraiya, who had been looking rather indignant about being manhandled by Orochimaru, had suddenly gone very pale. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and though it was barely perceptible, he was shaking ever so slightly.

‘Tsunade, how many of those things did he eat?’ Orochimaru demanded urgently.

‘I – I’m not sure,’ Tsunade said. ‘A fair few. I only had a tiny bite before I spat it out, but I…I’m feeling a little weird, truth be told.’

‘That might be the beginnings of the side effects,’ Orochimaru muttered, before turning to Jiraiya. ‘Listen up, Jiraiya. You’re about to be terrified within an inch of your life, and since I can’t remember how to snap you out of it, you’ll just have to sit down and stay quiet while Tsunade and I work this out.’

‘I…why are you saying those things?’ Jiraiya whispered, his eyes wide.

‘What?’ Orochimaru said. ‘Jiraiya, what are you talking about?’

‘That isn’t true!’ Jiraiya suddenly shouted, backing away from Orochimaru. His eyes were filling with tears, his movements erratic, and he was starting to tremble. Orochimaru stared at him. He had never seen Jiraiya so scared before, even when they were newly-graduated Genin facing down A-rank enemy Shinobi. It wasn’t his style, to show fear, so whatever he was seeing behind his eyes must have been truly terrifying.

‘H-hey, calm down. You need to try and relax a bit, okay?’ Tsunade said tentatively, reaching out to take his arm.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Jiraiya snarled, whirring round and whacking her under her jaw. ‘You’re a liar! You’re lying to me to trick me!’

‘Why, you,’ Tsunade growled, massaging her face. She had bitten the inside of her cheek at the suddenness of the brunt force and tasted blood in her mouth.

‘Tsunade, take it easy,’ Orochimaru warned. ‘That wasn’t personal. He’s not in his right mind.’

‘Then how do we snap him out of it?’ she hissed.

‘I…I can’t remember,’ Orochimaru admitted. ‘Surely you know something about this, though? Part of your medical training must have included the effects of hallucinogenic materials, right?’

‘Yeah, the common ones!’ Tsunade exclaimed. ‘Not the stupid bloody mushrooms you find growing out the side of a random mountain!’

‘Stop it, stop it!’ Jiraiya cried, falling to his knees. He pressed his hands over his ears, his eyes squeezed shut, tears running down his face, falling parallel with the red streaks from his eyes. ‘This can’t be happening! It – it wasn’t my fault!’

‘Jiraiya…’ Tsunade whispered, pressing her lips together.

‘Hey, Jiraiya!’ Orochimaru barked. ‘Can you hear me? This isn’t real. You need to know that – whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real.’

Jiraiya just shook his head, grinding his teeth together.

‘Isn’t there something we can do?’ Tsunade said desperately. ‘I hate seeing him like this!’

‘I’m trying to think!’ Orochimaru said.

Jiraiya was clenching his fists together, shaking his head over and over again. He couldn’t hear their voices. All he could see before him was a wasteland.

‘No…no…’ he moaned.

_‘You failed.’_

_Jiraiya jerked his head up. He could hear a voice, one he recognised as Lord Gamamaru, the Great Toad Sage. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t recognise anything – there was nothing between him at the furthest horizon, not even the bumps of mountains. It was like he had been dropped into a never-ending desert._

_‘You made the wrong choice. You failed.’_

_‘Why are you saying those things?’ he whispered._

_‘Because you made the wrong choice. You did not bring us our salvation – you secured our destruction.’_

_Before him was a faceless figure wearing a nameless headband. His eyes were a piercing red, so bright that Jiraiya had to look away. It was only when the figure flickered behind him, reaching out to him, his twisting arms trying to claw around Jiraiya’s neck, that he moved._

_‘Don’t touch me!’ he cried._

_‘Why not?’ the figure said. Its voice was irregular and jerky, like countless people were speaking in a near-perfect unison. ‘You created me. I’m your disciple, after all. I followed you. I listened to you. And look what happened?’_

_‘Stop it, stop it!’ Jiraiya shouted. ‘This can’t be happening! It wasn’t my fault!’_

_The figure disappeared in a wisp of smoke as Jiraiya clutched at his head, trying to block out Gamamaru’s booming voice. But nothing could silence him._

_‘Look around you. Look at where you are.’_

_Shaking, Jiraiya lifted his foot up. Shining in the rubble was a Konoha forehead protector, glinting pathetically in the dying sun. He realised, all at once, that he was sitting in a mass grave. Beneath him were the innumerable bodies of his villagers, his friends, his fellow Shinobi. His father. His Sensei. Orochimaru. Tsunade. Tsunade…_

_‘No…no…!’ he yelled, his voice echoing around the cripplingly empty space._

_He heard something fall on the dry earth behind him with a quiet tinkle. He didn’t want to look, but some unknown force turned his head. It was her necklace. The blue crystal stood out starkly against the brown dirt. There was a thin, hairline crack running through it, and as he lowered himself to pick up, it turned to dust in his hands. Like everything else. It was all dust._

_‘You failed.’_

_I failed._

_I failed._

_I -_

‘Oh, screw this,’ Tsunade said. She marched over to the fire, spitting out the blood in her mouth with a _puh_ , and picked up the stone slate Jiraiya had been using to cook the mushrooms. In one fell swoop, she traipsed back to where Jiraiya was sat in the dirt, and smacked the slate over his head. It shattered on impact, and he fell forward with a dull thud.

It took a moment for Orochimaru to process what had just happened, but when he came to his senses, he was completely flabbergasted.

‘Tsu – Tsunade!’ he squawked. ‘What on earth was that?!’

‘A proactive solution to a difficult problem,’ she shrugged.

‘But – but you just knocked him out!’ Orochimaru screeched. ‘Look! He’s completely out cold! What were you thinking?!’

‘What?’ Tsunade said, folding her arms defensively. ‘You weren’t doing anything, and I – I couldn’t stand to see him like that.’ 

Orochimaru sighed and knelt down to inspect Jiraiya’s unconscious form. ‘Well, if this is your solution to a medical conundrum, then I fear for you patients.’

‘Oh, give over,’ Tsunade huffed. ‘I got him out of it, didn’t I?

‘It appears so,’ Orochimaru said. ‘But you’d best work your medical magic and bring him round as soon as possible.’

As Tsunade soothed the throbbing welt that had emerged on the back of Jiraiya’s head, privately cursing herself for being a bit too over-zealous, Orochimaru gathered up the remaining mushrooms and threw them far into the forest. He made a mental note to ask Jiraiya where he found them – clearly, they got the job done. It wouldn’t be difficult to hold people, or indeed torture them, with those mushrooms to hand.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the enemy Shinobi were operating along the same line of thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello 😊  
> I've decided to update once a week, every Saturday (at least, Saturday my time!) just so I can spend some time fleshing everything out. The next arc gets quite complex in places, at least where fight scenes are concerned, so I don't want to put pressure on myself to pump out two lengthy chapters a week.  
> That being said, I had a lot of fun with this chapter! It was a good chance for each of them to have the limelight for a bit, and it sets up the future deadlocks between them.  
> Please let me know what you think! I'm not having a great time in terms of my personal life right now, so I could do with the pick-me-up. Or indeed constructive criticism. Anything welcomed, distractions needed😂  
> Happy reading x


	16. Scatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future Sannin make a discovery, Sakumo Hakate is given orders, and the enemy finally make themselves known.  
> *WARNING* for graphic depictions of dead bodies (sorry)

Chapter 16: Scatter 

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

Miki Fugiwara could smell blood. She sighed at herself in the reflection of the large crystal embedded in the mountain’s interior, running her finger over her old forehead protector. She wasn’t sure why she still wore it – she had left Kumogakure behind a long time ago – but, call it nostalgia or a fashion statement, she liked the way it kept her blonde hair out her eyes.

‘Kenichi!’ she called. ‘I hope you’re not being too heavy-handed with them again!’

A tall man darkened the makeshift door another one of their comrades had hollowed out of the stone. Blood was splattered in haphazard dots over his dark face and forehead protector, a twin of the one Miki still wore. He merely shrugged. He was a man of few words, which is probably what made Miki fall in love with him in the first place.

‘Honestly,’ she tutted, ‘we don’t want them dying on us just yet. Not until we’ve finished our research.’ 

‘I told him as much a million times, believe me,’ Ren Kaji said from the corner. Miki had half-forgotten he was there. He was a slight looking fellow, also from Kumogakure, and he was impatient and hot-headed. Miki had a hypothesis that he was such a loudmouth because he was frustrated about his height.

She sighed again, running a hand through her hair as she pouted at herself in the mirror. ‘How’d you reckon I’d look with a pair of Sharingan?’

‘Miki, you already have that brat’s Byakugan in your right eye, even if it is permanently activated,’ Ren said. ‘We can’t hurry things. You heard what old Takahiro said – if we want to understand the intricacies of their dojutsu, we have to give it some time.’

‘Takahiro is overly cautious,’ Kenichi said, in a low, matter-of-fact voice.

Miki swung her arms above her head, and stretched. ‘Well, being the former advisor to the Mizukage is bound to make someone a boring stick-in-the-mud, that’s for sure. But he has a point. I don’t know how long it’ll be till we apprehend another Uchiha, so we ought to be careful. Which means you need to stop being so harsh with them, Kenichi. I’m sure the Fear-cap mushrooms are doing the work for us without you torturing them.’

‘Can’t help it,’ Kenichi muttered. ‘They’re arrogant bastards, all of them.’

Miki Fugiwara, Kenichi Mikami, and Ren Kaji had defected from Kumogakure about five years ago. Later, they were joined by Takahiro Toyosaki and Aki Toyosaki, a father-daughter duo who had abandoned Iwagakure around a similar time. They had stumbled across each other quite by accident. Ren was hurt, and Takahiro had some skill in medical ninjutsu. The rest was history – it was mutually beneficial for the group to stay together, given the ever-prudent policy of ‘safety in numbers’. What they didn’t expect, however, was to have a mutual interest.

All five of them were from mediocre clans, frustrated with how the strong dominated the Shinobi world, and ignored because of their average prowess. It was particularly painful for Takahiro, for he had been a close advisor of the Second Mizukage, Gengetsu Hozuki, before he had been injured in an accident and lost his right arm. After that, Lord Gengetsu had thrown him out, citing his disfigurement as weakness. Gengetsu ended up dying in the war, but Takahiro carried that bitterness with him, and passed it on to his daughter.

The others had similar sources of bitterness. Miki and Kenichi, who had been childhood sweethearts, were the only survivors of their age group. But that was because, during a battle in the First Shinobi War, they had seen what they were up against, and ran. They were branded as cowards for their fear. They were not splendid Shinobi, and certainly nowhere near as skilled as their peers, and they didn’t think that dying for a village that only nurtured the strong was a noble pursuit. Naturally, they were shunned for their reluctance to sacrifice everything for the village, and one night, they decided to flee. They took Ren with them. He was, in actual fact, from an acknowledged clan, but he was frustrated from the pressure and decided it wasn’t worth the strife.

Regardless, the core five had amassed several loyal followers, many of whom were milling about the mountain near Kagero Village to keep watch. They called themselves the Inoshishi, and had fashioned an insignia of a golden boar to wear on their backs. It was a Clan of sorts, one they all craved. They kept to the shadows, quietly honing their skills, and more importantly, attempting to collect Kekkei Genkai. It was Miki’s belief that, through time and experimentation, they too could obtain the abnormal DNA to perform truly magnificent feats. Once that was achieved, she planned to become the strongest. But it wasn’t just for personal gain – Miki wanted to rewrite the Shinobi world, to bring it out of an era where the strong dominated and the weak were crushed. She wanted to level the playing field. And she would achieve her vision by any means necessary.

‘How many have we got now?’ Ren asked, jogging her out of her contemplations.

‘We’ve got the two kids from Konoha: the Byakugan user – this eye of mine is courtesy of him - and the Sharingan user. A good haul, if you ask me,’ Miki replied. ‘Plus, the red-headed woman from the Senju clan. That really was a stroke of luck, stumbling across her. We might be able to secure wood release with her genes. She’s a direct descendant of Hashirama Senju, according to our scouts.’

‘And we have a descendant of the Kurama clan of Konoha, who are, as the stories go, incredibly adept in genjutsu,’ Kenichi said.

‘Sheesh. Konoha seemed unfairly strong,’ Ren muttered.

‘Well, our hometown put up a fair offer,’ Miki chuckled. ‘I mean, we’ve got two who use storm release, now. I bet the old Raikage is having a fit, considering we left Kumogakure alone for a little while. But knowing him, he didn’t report them as missing. Shows how little he cares about his Shinobi.’

‘Well, everything is for appearance’s sake,’ Ren muttered. He was right on the money – while it had become fairly known that Iwagakure, Sunagakure and Konohagakure had highlighted the disappearances, Kumogakure did not. It was also why Danzo didn’t have any intel on them.

‘And don’t forget, we also have the woman from Iwagakure who can use explosion release as well as the brat from Sunagakure who can use magnet release. Between all of that lot, we’re bound to obtain more power,’ Miki continued. They had already been partially successful with their other prisoners – she had the Byakugan, which she frequently admired in the crystal, Ren had obtained the rare ice release, and Kenichi had been busy adapting to his new use of steel release. It was a tricky process, isolating the strands of DNA responsible for the Kekkei Genkai and then fusing it with their own, and there had been numerous failures and rejections. Working at a molecular level was no easy feat, but Takahiro’s skill in medical ninjutsu made it a possibility, even with the low success rate.

The next on the list of priorities was the Sharingan, but privately, Miki was fascinated by the Senju woman. Wood release had only been seen in Hashirama Senju, and she was intrigued to see if his daughter possessed the same potential.

‘Sure, but how long are they going to last under those Fear-caps, eh?’ Ren said. ‘I mean, it’s all well and good to use those in order to quell them, but it’s gonna have psychological implications sooner or later.’

Miki cracked her neck. ‘I don’t care about that. As far as I’m concerned, once we’ve got what we want from them, we can dispose of them.’

*

Jiraiya was uncharacteristically quiet as the trio made their way to Kagero Village. Once he’d come around – with a nasty swelling on the back of his skull – Tsunade and Orochimaru told him what had happened. But he didn’t need reminding. What he had seen under the influence of the Fear-cap mushrooms was permanently engrained in his psyche.

_I failed._

He had to remind himself that he’d yet to fail anything. He didn’t even have any students yet. It would be a while before the demise of the world or a lack thereof. Truthfully, he didn’t know what terrified him more; the idea of utter failure, Konoha being razed to the ground, the shadowy figure with the red eyes, or the thought of losing Orochimaru and Tsunade. He swallowed thickly, looking at their backs as they streamed through the mountains. Guilt squirmed in his stomach when he saw a dark bruise under Tsunade’s chin. _He’d_ done that, and he didn’t even give either of them the justification of what he’d seen.

‘Halt,’ Orochimaru said. Tsunade skidded to a stop and Jiraiya nearly ran into her, he was so lost in his own head. She glared at him reproachfully and Jiraiya was taken-aback. He’d been on the receiving end of many a withering stare, but after she’d opened up to him at the campsite, part of him hoped they’d reached a new stage in their friendship. No such luck, apparently.

‘What is it, Oro?’ Tsunade asked.

Orochimaru had landed softly on the grass, and against the darkness of tree bark was a barely discernible streak of blood. 

‘How on earth did you see that?’ Tsunade gasped.

‘I have sharp eyes.’

‘Do you think it’s from our lot?’ Jiraiya asked, peering closer at the stain. There was a fair amount, but still very hard to see against the texture and colour of the tree. Orochimaru had done very well to spot it.

‘Judging by the darkness in colour and the viscosity, I’d say it’s a week old at most,’ Orochimaru said, crouching down to study the blood smear. ‘They were headed east, which is away from Kagero Village. If this was left by Shinobi, Kagero was not their goal.’

‘You can tell all that just from a blood stain?’ Jiraiya said sceptically.

‘I have -’

‘– sharp eyes. Yeah, yeah,’ Jiraiya mumbled. Moments like that reminded him of why Orochimaru was a Jonin, and he a lowly Chuunin.

‘It’s a shame we don’t have one of the Inuzuka sisters with us,’ Tsunade sighed. ‘They’d be able to track the scent of the blood no problem.’

‘We don’t have to,’ Orochimaru said. ‘There is a trail. Look. Whoever it was has been badly injured.’

Cautiously, with Orochimaru in front, the three future Sannin followed the barely-there trail of blood splattered against the grass. It took a long while – the injured person had zigzagged a lot – but eventually, they arrived at a grim sight.

‘Oh, God,’ Jiraiya murmured, putting his hand over his nose to block the stench.

Touta and Noriko, the two 16-year-old Chuunin, were lying in an undignified, bloody heap. Both had had their throats unceremoniously slit, the blood soaking down their khaki flak jackets. By the looks of things, they didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

‘That’s…that’s Touta,’ Tsunade said, swallowing thickly. ‘I tended to him at the hospital. And that is Noriko…from what I can see.’ The week passed had stained both of their faces with a purplish hue, their gaunt cheeks rotting, eyes caving in as they lay unblinking in their sinking sockets.

‘This is horrible,’ Jiraiya whispered.

‘This is wrong,’ Orochimaru frowned. ‘Look at the pair of them. They didn’t stand a chance. Probably died right on the spot. That one looks like she’s straining to get her kunai, but never made it in time.’

‘Yeah, we get it, Oro,’ Jiraiya said, his teeth gritted. It was jarring to see people so close in age lying dead at their feet. It could have so easily been them.

‘No, I mean it doesn’t make sense,’ Orochimaru said. ‘If they died here, as the blood and positioning suggests, then _who left the trail_?’

The three of them whirred around, as if expecting to see someone flying through the trees. There was nothing.

‘And where were my mother and Jun?’ Tsunade murmured. ‘I mean, for these two to be taken out so easily, it implies they’d been separated. After all, you wouldn’t expect a Jonin and a Special Jonin to go down so easily.’

‘That was another first thought,’ Orochimaru nodded, clearly unfazed by the decaying bodies.

‘Do – do you reckon they were taken?’ Jiraiya asked nervously.

‘I couldn’t say,’ Orochimaru admitted. ‘But what’s odd is we’re still a way off from Kagero Village. Most of the fighting has been taking place within the village or along its borders. We’re too far away.’

‘So, you think someone else did this?’ Jiraiya asked, as Tsunade knelt down and carefully coaxed Noriko and Touta’s eyelids over their glassy eyes.

‘That would be the most logical theory, yes,’ Orochimaru nodded slowly. ‘And a smart move. It seems the perpetrator has been taking advantage of our situation with Kagero to use as a red herring to disguise these apparent kidnappings.’

‘That makes sense,’ Tsunade said, standing back up. Blood stained her knees. ‘I mean, it isn’t exactly Kagero’s style to take prisoners, and even if Shinobi are MIA, it is unusual unless it’s during a large conflict.’

‘Sarutobi-sensei said this might be a possibility before we left, remember? Jiraiya piped up. ‘He said that the only two villages who’d _hadn’t_ been impacted by these disappearances were Kumogakure and Kirigakure. As far as we know, at least. That means that us, Iwagakure and Sunagakure have all reported the losses. And what do these three villages have in common?’

‘They’ve all been caught up in wars,’ Tsunade concluded. ‘Us with Kagero, Kirigakure with their civil war, and Sunagakure with the Land of Rivers. A dispute over water, I think. Sunagakure need a reservoir to channel into their desert lands, and are facing opposition.’

‘So logically speaking, as Oro always says,’ Jiraiya said, almost excitedly, ‘if all these disappearances are connected, whoever is conducting them is striking while we are distracted.’

‘A good theory,’ Orochimaru said. ‘And a good tactic. Sarutobi-sensei said that, following this line of thought, it could be Kumogakure or Kirigakure. Though either of them could have also had these disappearances but chose not to flag them. We can’t be sure.’

‘It wasn’t any of the Hidden Villages.’

The three of them jumped in shock at the sound of a weak and vaguely familiar voice.

‘Who’s there?’ Orochimaru demanded, immediately drawing a kunai.

‘Forgive me. I’ve been using a jutsu to disguise my presence. I had to be sure it was you.’

Slowly, a rock a little way away from Noriko and Touta’s bodies began to shimmer, like heatwaves rising from hot concrete on a summer’s day. Little by little, Jun’s slumped and bloodied form shifted into their view.

‘Jun!’ Tsunade exclaimed, dashing towards him. He had a nasty gash in his stomach, his white hands clutching it as the blood seeped through his meagre dressing of rags and leaves.

‘Yo, Princess Tsunade,’ Jun smiled weakly, blood stained on his teeth. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘Oh, Jun,’ Tsunade whispered, immediately getting to work on trying to heal his wound. ‘What happened? How long have you been here?’

‘It – it’s a long story,’ he murmured. ‘Several days, at least. I can’t really remember.’

‘Let the man rest for a moment, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘Focus on healing him, and then we can ask questions.’

Tsunade did just that. Her teeth gritted from concentration, she assessed the situation under her hands. Jun was badly injured. His abdomen looked as though it had been subjected to an explosion of sorts. His flesh was torn and bruised, and as she set about healing him, she came to the grim conclusion that he was suffering from blood poisoning. Overexposure to the elements, a lack of proper medical attention and a combination of tattered flesh had caused infection, and that infection had led to sepsis.

‘It's not looking good, judging by your expression. You never could hide what you were thinking, even when you were a little squirt,’ Jun rasped.

‘You’ll live if we get you back to Konoha,’ Tsunade said. ‘We need to get this infection under control before you succumb to septic shock, but I can’t do that without the proper medicines. There’s only so much I can do stuck out here in the middle of nowhere.’

‘They’d likely have supplies in Kagero,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Is it a common medicine?’

‘Probably. It doesn’t take a genius to concoct a potion to combat infection,’ Tsunade said. ‘And in a conflict, blood poisoning is very common if severe wounds are left untreated. I’m surprised you’ve lasted as long as you have, Jun.’

‘That’s because he hasn’t been here for as long as Noriko and Touta. Right? Orochimaru said.

Jun sighed. ‘You're not wrong. I owe you an explanation. But before I do, I beg you, do not go to Kagero for my sake. Don’t rush back to Konoha, either. Komako needs you right now. You can’t waste time trying to heal me.’

‘What happened to her?’ Tsunade asked urgently.

‘I’ll explain as quickly as I can,’ Jun said, his skin waxy and pale. ‘On arrival to the Land of Mountains, we immediately sensed someone was stalking us. Komako takes after Lord Second in that respect, as you know, Princess Tsunade – she’s a sensory type. Anyway, we split up to cover more ground and to try and confuse the enemy. Looking back, Komako and I should have been on separate teams, but I…I didn’t want to leave her.’

Jiraiya studied his face. Despite his sickening complexion, at the mention of Komako’s name, his eyes seemed to flare with light. Jun had been close to the Senjus for a long while – from his Chuunin days working with the Uchiha Police Force as the Mansion’s internal security, to Lord Second’s advisor, to finally having a place on the council. Could it just be a passion for duty in his eyes? Jiraiya had a gut feeling it was something else.

‘Anyway,’ Jun continued, ‘Komako didn’t want us to leave Noriko and Touta. They are – I mean, they _were_ – skilled Shinobi, but she…she sensed something was wrong. I pushed her to split the teams the way we did. I wanted to be by her side. She…your family, Princess Tsunade, they mean a lot to me. But my sense of duty clouded my sound judgement. Touta and Noriko were killed before we could get to them. It happened so quickly. We didn’t even…we didn’t even hear them. We just found them. It…it was horrific. They were Komako’s precious students, and she was angry. Furious. We both were.’

‘But you returned to them?’ Orochimaru said.

‘Yes, I did. I hoped, if the Hokage was to send anyone else – we couldn’t report back to him for fear of discovery - they would find the bodies faster than if they were looking for a live subject. Plus, I needed to be careful. This place is crawling with the enemy, and I had to be sure…but then I heard you talking about Lord Third’s orders, and everything to do with Kagero, so I took a risk. Luckily, it turned out to be you. Though I can’t believe Lord Third would send his own students after the poor success rate of this mission.’

The three of them exchanged an awkward look.

‘But as I was saying,’ Jun said, wincing as he adjusted his position against the rock, ‘we were angry. We knew it wasn’t Kagero – it’s too far from the border – so it became a hunting game. But I never imagined…they’d be so powerful. There was a woman, a woman with a boar insignia on her back. And she…she had a Byakugan.’ 

‘What?’ Tsunade gasped. ‘Don’t tell me a Hyuga is behind this?’

‘No, this was different,’ Jun croaked. ‘It looked like it had been forced into her eye socket. It was pulsing and she had no control over its activation, but she used it well.’

‘It must be Fumihiro’s,’ Orochimaru concluded. ‘He was one of the first to go missing, as I’m sure you’re aware.’

‘Bastards,’ Jiraiya muttered, clenching his fists.

‘That’s not all,’ Jun continued. ‘There was a man – a boy, really, - with her, who could use something I haven’t seen since my confrontation with a member of the Yuki Clan. It was ice release, I’m certain of it.’

‘You were overwhelmed?’ Orochimaru asked, unfazed. He had hunted down several members of the Yuki Clan under Danzo’s orders after he flagged them as a threat to Konoha’s security. He didn’t dwell on the matter for too long, but ice release was something he was familiar with.

‘Miraculously, no,’ Jun said. ‘That was mainly thanks to Komako. She’s a bit rusty since she hasn’t been out in the field for so long, but we were doing well, fending them off. But then…then the ice release user seemed to trap us in this huge scope of mirrors. I’ve never seen anything like it. Senbon flew from every direction, and we were dealing with it well enough – we _are_ Jonin, after all – but I…I think the senbon were poisoned, or something. I was overwhelmed with fear. I…I won’t tell you what I saw because I don’t want to think about it, but when I came around, I was in _this_ state. The enemy were gone. And so was Komako.’

‘Fear-cap mushrooms,’ Orochimaru said immediately. ‘They must have used a component of fear-caps for the poison. They trigger an intense, genjutsu-like trace. Unbreakable, unless you’re given a good hit over the head, apparently, as Jiraiya found out.’

As Jiraiya rubbed the back of his head, wincing, Tsunade swallowed thickly.

‘They took her?’ she said.

Jun looked at her with large, sad eyes. ‘They did. They must have. She wouldn’t have…I looked everywhere for her, as much I as could in the state, and didn’t find a trace of her. That might sound scary, Princess, but it does not mean she is dead. I would have found her otherwise.’

‘This is deeply troubling,’ Orochimaru muttered, his finger on his chin. ‘A boar insignia? Has anyone heard of a Clan adopting such a figure?’

Jun, Tsunade and Jiraiya all shook their heads.

‘At least we know it isn’t Kagero,’ Jiraiya said. ‘But the Byakugan? Ice release? They’re both Kekkei Genkai, right?’

‘That must be it,’ Orochimaru said slowly. ‘Danzo’s reports highlighted that all the missing Shinobi are from affluent clans, each boasting impressive Kekkei Genkai and secret techniques. It would certainly explain why Fumihiro and Hiromichi, both dojutsu users, were taken. And Komako, come to think of it. She could hold the key to wood release, in theory.’

‘But that…that sounds like someone is collecting Kekkei Genkai,’ Jiraiya gulped.

‘It’s more than that,’ Tsunade muttered. ‘They’re _stealing_. They’re stealing other people’s abilities for their own gain.’

‘What is their purpose, though? Power? But for what?’ Orochimaru frowned.

‘That doesn’t matter right now,’ Tsunade growled. ‘If they’ve taken my mother, we have to find them. We have to.’

‘First, you should report to Lord Third,’ Jun said weakly. ‘He hasn’t heard from us in a week. He ought to know the situation – he might even send back up. Who knows how large their force is?’

The three of them exchanged that same, awkward look, this time mingled with guilt.

‘What?’ Jun croaked.

‘Well,’ Tsunade said, twisting her bloodied fingers together, ‘Sarutobi-sensei didn’t send us, per se. I sort of…came on my own. Jiraiya and Oro were sent to get me and bring me back to Konoha, but they had the good grace to remain by my side and help me.’

Jun didn’t even have the energy to react. ‘You mean to say the three of you have gone rogue?’

‘Something like that,’ Jiraiya said.

*

‘I can only assume that both Jiraiya and Orochimaru have gone rogue, Sakumo,’ Hiruzen sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Sakumo Hatake refrained from making a comment. He had heard about the situation from village gossip; Princess Tsunade had disobeyed her orders and went to seek out Komako and the other missing Shinobi herself. Privately, he admired her for it. To abandon one’s comrades, family or otherwise, is the pinnacle of utter negligence and disrespect. What he didn’t expect, however, was that the two boys would agree to help her. He didn’t know much about young Jiraiya, apart from the fact that he was Benjiro’s son, but he had heard of Orochimaru’s impressive track record. He figured Orochimaru was the sort of person who would stick rigidly to the rules. He could only assume Tsunade had managed to persuade them both.

‘I should have seen this coming,’ Hiruzen muttered. ‘Sending those two after her was not a good idea. Tsunade has them wrapped around her little finger, as much as they’d try to deny it.’

Sakumo remained silent. The only thing he wanted to say was that they were doing the right thing, that abandoning the missing Shinobi was disgraceful, and that Hiruzen should have sent Team after Team to the Land of Mountains until they were brought home. But Sakumo’s mentality was vastly different to the average, rule-following Shinobi. His was a will of righteousness.

‘Listen, I know I’ve just asked you to be a Sensei to the new Genin when they graduate, and on top of your other duties, I can’t imagine my next request will go down well,’ Hiruzen continued. ‘But you are the best of us, Sakumo. And I need this matter dealt with quickly.’

‘What do you need me to do?’

‘It is delicate,’ Hiruzen said. ‘Mito is breathing down my neck, desperate to get Tsunade and Komako back in one piece, but I am, truthfully, not sure what the best approach is. In one regard, I do not want to stir negative relations with Kagero any further, especially since we are so close to securing peace. In the other, people’s lives are at risk.’

‘That’s true,’ Sakumo said, tucking his hands in his pocket. At 22, he was just two years younger that Hiruzen was when he first became Hokage. He couldn’t imagine the pressure, but, as he became more and more renowned for his power, an arrogant part of himself couldn’t help but wonder if he would be taking up the mantle of Hokage at some point in the future.

‘But we can’t lose anyone else,’ Hiruzen said, clenching his fists under the desk. ‘Danzo wouldn’t like it, but I…I want you to go to Kagero, locate Tsunade and her Team, and work with them. I’ve no doubt they are doing everything in their power to find Komako’s Team, Fumihiro Hyuga, and Hiromichi Uchiha, but I suspect they’ll need help. Do I have your word to handle this quickly, efficiently, and secretively, Sakumo?’

‘Of course, Lord Third,’ Sakumo said, bowing his head. ‘You can count on me.’

‘In that case, Sakumo, your orders are to seek out Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru, and aid them in the recovery of Komako, Jun, Touta, Noriko, Fumihiro and Hiromichi,’ Hiruzen said. ‘You may do this by any means necessary – even if it means risking bad blood between us and Kagero. And I implore you, do not relay your orders to anyone outside this room. It is to be done with the upmost secrecy.’

Sakumo nodded. ‘Understood. Do you want me to give the all clear to Princess Tsunade regarding Komako and the other’s recovery?’

‘Well, she’s gone ahead and done it anyway,’ Hiruzen muttered. ‘You may as well give her the orders. Though I’ll be having more than a few stern words with her when she gets back. Orochimaru and Jiraiya, too. They should know better.’

‘They’re hot-headed kids, don’t forget,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘I was like that when I was their age – hell, I still am. And give them some credit. They’ve done a brave thing, defying you and going out after their comrades.’

‘Brave, indeed. But also, very stupid,’ Hiruzen sighed. ‘They’ve essentially proven they are unable to follow orders. I can’t say I’m too surprised at Jiraiya – he was always a little left field, shall we say – but I certainly didn’t expect it from Tsunade and Orochimaru.’

‘All they’ve done is put the value of their orders below the value of their comrades,’ Sakumo said quietly.

‘Which, admittedly, suggests my orders themselves were flawed,’ Hiruzen said gravely. ‘Honestly, if I could protect every single Shinobi, I would. I still aim to. That’s why I’m sending you out after them.’

‘Is this a solo mission?’

‘It is. I have no doubt you’ll be able to handle it – I’ve heard they’re calling you the White Fang these days,’ Hiruzen smiled.

Sakumo rubbed the back of his neck bashfully and grinned. ‘I try not to pay attention to stuff like that.’

‘Still, if you’re comfortable, you’re to head out straight away,’ Hiruzen said. ‘And Sakumo? Please contact me for backup should you need it. I…I don’t want to lose anyone.’

Sakumo nodded, knowing the Hokage was thinking of his precious students. ‘Normally, it’s a three-day journey. But at my speed, I might be able to half that.’

‘Do what you must, Sakumo. Good luck,’ Hiruzen said.

*

‘The most logical step is for Tsunade to take Jun back to Konoha. There’s no way we should risk breaching Kagero for medical supplies,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Since Jiraiya is skilled in infiltration thanks to Benjiro, it would make sense for him to seek out the missing Shinobi. I will stay, as the Team’s Jonin, to support him.’

‘Not a chance,’ Tsunade said. ‘I’m not leaving, not now I’ve come this far. You can go back with Jun. You’re a better Shinobi than me at the moment, period, so you’ll be able to defend him better.’

‘And what if he worsens?’ Orochimaru said. ‘I don’t know the first thing about medical ninjutsu. You need to stay by his side if he has a chance.’

‘But splitting the Team will inherently weaken us,’ Jiraiya said. ‘And yeah, Pa taught me some stuff about espionage and infiltration, but if anything, you might be better equipped, Oro. I mean, you are training to join the ANBU, aren’t you? You’re meant to be skilled at this sort of thing.’

‘If that’s the case, then Jiraiya should go with Jun, and you and I should stay here,’ Tsunade said, her eyes set on Orochimaru.

‘I did say we shouldn’t split the Team,’ Jiraiya mumbled.

‘We’re not getting anywhere by arguing about it,’ Orochimaru said coolly. ‘I think it’s in everyone’s best interests if Jun gets the help he needs, and the most viable option for that care is Tsunade. And as the Jonin-in-charge here by default, you should do as I suggest.’

‘Are you about to give me an order?’ Tsunade snorted.

‘Bad idea, Oro,’ Jiraiya gulped.

‘Listen,’ Orochimaru said testily, ‘if you want Jun to survive this, he needs medical attention. You said it yourself, Tsunade – if he doesn’t get the help he needs, he’ll die. Do you really want his blood on your hands?’

Tsunade faltered. Of course she didn’t want Jun to die. He’d been hanging around the Mansion for as long as she could remember, as was a good friend to Tobirama as well as her mother. But she had come with one goal in the mind, and that was finding Komako. She didn’t factor Jun into her equations.

Jun was stirring from a feverish sleep. He had dropped off almost immediately after he’d divulged to the three of them about what had transpired, and Tsunade had done all she could to soothe him. As he groaned and opened his eyes, she was back at his side, her hands swathed in the pale, greenish blue of her ninjutsu.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked, as Orochimaru folded his arms impatiently. They needed a plan of action, and quickly. Judging by Jun’s countenance, he wasn’t going to hold out for much longer.

‘I feel a little better,’ Jun said, his eyelids fluttering. ‘Whatever you’re doing is working.’

‘It won’t cure you,’ Tsunade said, learning from Biwako that is was best not to sugar-coat bad news. ‘We’re just trying to figure out which one of us should take you back to -’

‘– no,’ Jun interrupted. ‘No, you can’t do that, Princess. You three need to…you need to stick together. There’s…no telling how many more of them there are, and they were powerful.’

Tsunade bit her lip, utterly torn. She trusted Jiraiya and Orochimaru enough to carry out the mission, but she had risked so much to get there. Then again, Jun was a friend to the family – could she really, in good conscience, leave him to die? She knew his death was certain if he remained in this state. The dark stains of sepsis were seeping up his torso, and, rather grimly, the wound was beginning to smell from the infection. And Jun was, to the core, a decent man. Leaving him to die alone would haunt her, she knew it. But would it haunt her more than deserting her mother?

‘Princess,’ Jun said, his shaking hands hovering over hers, ‘I know what you’re thinking. But you mustn’t leave your mission. You mustn’t abandon the living for the dead.’

Tsunade stared at him. ‘But…you’re not dead. Not yet, at least.’

‘I’m no fool, contrary to what Lord Second might have thought,’ Jun smiled. ‘You said it already, Princess. I need treatment, or I’ll die.’

‘Then why would you suggest such a thing?’ she said.

‘Because Komako is more important,’ Jun said, his hands squeezing hers. ‘She’s your mother, Princess. And let’s face it, in my state, the chances of getting me back to Konoha in time are slim at best. Truly, I’ve only held on for as long as I have on the off chance someone would come along. I…I wanted to make sure Komako would be safe. That someone would go looking for her. That she would be alright. Nothing else matters.’

‘He’s in love with her,’ Jiraiya murmured, watching the scene unfold.

Orochimaru looked at him out the corner of his eye. ‘Who, Tsunade?’

‘No, you creep,’ Jiraiya hissed. ‘I meant Komako. Can’t you see it? Look at his face. I reckon he fell for her a long, long time ago.’

Orochimaru didn’t ask how Jiraiya made such an assumption. He had never been good at reading people, least of all reading love. Detecting such an intense and palpable emotion in another human being should have been easy. After all, Orochimaru saw the way Jiraiya looked at Tsunade, but didn’t want to call it ‘love’. He didn’t really know what it was. And he certainly didn’t know whether or not if Jun felt such a thing for Komako. Jiraiya, however, seemed certain.

‘Listen to me, Princess,’ Jun said, his voice soft and weak. ‘I would rather die a thousand times over than see Komako suffer. And believe me, I don’t want to frighten you, but she is almost certainly in grave, grave danger. I told you about that woman’s Byakugan, right? It is clear these people will do anything in the pursuit of power. And while wood release has not manifested naturally in her, or you, or even Nawaki, the _potential_ might still be there. They…they could be doing all manner of things to her right now. I can’t bear to think it. I don’t want to.’

‘I know that,’ Tsunade shuddered. ‘I always knew something must have been wrong for her not to come home. I’m prepared.’

‘Then I should not and will not interrupt these preparations,’ Jun said. ‘The three of you are stronger together. I’ve seen you all grow up. I even observed your Genin exam. I know what you’re made of, all of you. Splitting you up for my sake could cause irreversible damage.’

Tsunade swallowed thickly. ‘Jun…I don’t know what to say.’

‘There’s nothing to say,’ he said, managing a smile. ‘Come up with a plan, and save Komako. Save all of them. And, if you get the chance, do me a favour, eh?’

‘What?’ Tsunade whispered.

Jun’s eyes hardened. ‘Avenge Touta and Noriko. They were good kids. Really, really good kids.’

It was decided. Jun didn’t want it any other way.

For the next few hours, Orochimaru and Jiraiya scoped out the enemy, looking for any sign of movement or indications to the location of Komako and the others. It took some time, but eventually, Jiraiya spotted a flash of shadow that could only be cast by a person. He gestured to Orochimaru, who was perched high in a tree. Orochimaru scattered down the truck and cocked his head to one side, indicating for Jiraiya to talk.

‘Over there,’ Jiraiya whispered. ‘I’m certain I saw something.’

The boys followed, silently, in the direction Jiraiya had specified. They came to a line of large, pinkish mountains. Crystals extended like stalagmites from the peaks of the rocky line, catching beautifully in the light and casting sprinklings of rainbow light to cascade over the grass. Dotted haphazardly between the cracks were what both Jiraiya and Orochimaru instantly recognised as Fear-cap mushrooms.

‘Well, this isn’t exactly inconspicuous,’ Jiraiya whispered. He wasn’t wrong – the colour of the mountains and the crystals did not blend in with the rest of the grey landscape.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Orochimaru muttered. ‘You sure it’s the right place?’

The question was answered for him. They watched as a figure, with a decorative boar insignia plastered on his back, cast a sign in front of the mountain. The rock shimmered like a mirage and an opening appeared. He disappeared through it, and the mountain sealed up again, leaving it looking totally ordinary.

‘What kind of a jutsu is that?’ Jiraiya murmured. ‘Did you see what hand sign he made?’

‘I think it might have been the Genjutsu Release,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘You know, kai.’

‘What, so they’re managing to cast and sustain a genjutsu on the mountain itself?’

‘Perhaps. We won’t be sure until we actually go and try it for ourselves,’ Orochimaru said. ‘But doing that would immediately alert us to the enemy. The most logical step would be to wait for someone else to come along and use them as a decoy.’

‘How would that work?’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘Well, if they’re so organised, I’d make an educated guess that they have specific patrol and times they’ll be entering and exited the mountain,’ Orochimaru said. ‘It makes sense to think so – after all, we have a similar protocol for people entering and leaving Konoha so we can be wary of intruders. Therefore, using a member of their own Team to disguise our infiltration might just work.’

‘That’s quite a bold move, don’t you think?’ Jiraiya said cautiously.

Orochimaru smirked. ‘No bolder than defying Sarutobi-sensei’s orders. Besides, we can use basic infiltration techniques to disguise our presence. Of course, if someone like your father was here, we wouldn’t have to wait for someone else to arrive, but we’re just not at his level where infiltration and espionage are concerned.’

‘Don’t tell him that. He’s big-headed enough as is it about that,’ Jiraiya muttered.

By a stroke of luck, it didn’t take too long for another member of the enemy’s team to appear. This time is was a woman, and she was wearing a mask reminiscent of those the ANBU usually donned. In an instant, Orochimaru was behind her, a hand over her mouth and a kunai pressed to her throat.

‘One wrong move and I’ll kill you,’ he hissed. He felt her struggling cease. _Smart girl_ , he thought. Orochimaru could kill someone in an instant if they made any sign of attempting escape. He’d done it time and time again.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘I want you to break whatever jutsu is being cast over this mountain and lead us inside. Make a single noise and you’re dead, your comrades along with you. Make no mistake – I do not believe in mercy.’

Shaking, the woman complied. Orochimaru released her arms long enough to perform the hand sign – Kai, as he presumed – and the entrance materialised before them. Jiraiya dashed inside, scoping out the small entrance, and confirmed it was clear. Orochimaru turned his back to the entrance and dragged the woman with him. Once he’d put one step over the threshold, he gave a sharp jerk of the edge of his hand against the back of her neck. She immediately collapsed in his arms, out cold.

‘She should be unconscious for a while,’ he said.

‘Phew,’ Jiraiya said. ‘That was easier than I thought. Now we just gotta navigate this place, rescue the gang, and we’ll be home free!’

‘Jiraiya, stick to the plan,’ Orochimaru hissed. ‘We are here to confirm whether or not Komako and the others are here. Once we have, we retreat, work out a plan, and then power ahead with Tsunade in tow. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you hear me?’

Jiraiya pouted, but ultimately agreed.

*

Tsunade sat by Jun’s side, her knees to her chest. It was growing colder, but she had shed her green flak jacket and draped it over Jun’s quivering form. He was shaking from fever and the chill in the air, his face coated in a sheen of sweat. The infection was progressing much faster than she predicted, but part of her felt like he was just giving in to it. Now he knew someone was attempting to rescue Komako, he seemed to relax into the sickness.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tsunade murmured.

‘What for?’ Jun said, his voice sticky with tiredness and pain.

‘For having to leave you like this,’ she replied, mumbling into her drawn up knees. ‘I know you think it’s for the best, but the thought of leaving you to die is horrible.’

‘You’re not leaving me to die,’ Jun said. ‘You’re leaving me to make sure Komako _lives_. There’s a world of difference there, Princess Tsunade.’

‘But you don’t deserve this,’ she said. ‘You’re a good man. Dying like this is just…’ she trailed off, not being able to find the words. She had seen death before. Working in the hospital had prepared herself for such an inevitable eventuality, but she’d never had to sit by and watch someone she cared about die, apart from Hashirama. Even then, she felt she was too young to really understand what was happening. She hadn’t been there when he slipped away. But to see the light fade from the eyes, to see the body lift as its spirit left it, was something she would never get used to. On death, a ‘person’ becomes a ‘body’. Jun wouldn’t be ‘Jun’, anymore. His character and personality would only survive in her memory, and the memories of the other lives he touched. The body would be left behind to fade away.

‘I’m in no place to consider what I do and do not deserve,’ Jun said. ‘I’ve done terrible things in the name of the Leaf. Things I regret. I wonder if this is all I deserve.’

‘It isn’t,’ Tsunade said firmly. ‘We all have to do unjust things, even in the name of so-called justice – but that doesn’t make us bad people. Otherwise everyone I love is a villain.’

Jun managed a smile. ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that before. Hell, Lord Second probably took more lives than he protected, but he was, at the core, a good man. I was very lucky to serve under him.’

‘He was lucky to have you,’ Tsunade said. ‘We all were. I know it was probably dull, being on the Mansion’s security team as a Special Jonin, but honestly, I liked seeing you every day. You were a comfort. Sounds silly, right?’

‘No. I’m glad to know that, Princess,’ Jun murmured. ‘And truly, it was a great honour to work for and protect your family. I only regret I wasn’t able to protect Komako.’

Tsunade fiddled with her necklace. ‘My mother is stronger than anyone gives her credit for, myself included. I’m sure…I’m sure she’s alright. She has to be.’

‘That’s true enough,’ Jun said. ‘The amount of times I had to bite my tongue when Taichi reprimanded her for not following Lord First’s footsteps is close to a thousand, or so it feels.’

Tsunade tightened her grip around the necklace. ‘You mean wood release?’

Jun sighed, and nodded. ‘I’m aware he was as harsh on you as he was her, Princess. It made my blood boil, seeing the way he treated you.’

‘You and me both,’ Tsunade said, smiling cynically. ‘Guess my mother and I are both big disappointments to everyone, huh?’

Jun, with a sudden strength, took her hand. His grip was loose and weak, but the resolve was as clear as day. ‘Don’t ever say that, Princess. You and your mother, and young Nawaki included, have brought nothing but pride to all of us. Your father’s judgement is clearly flawed if he can’t see that.’

‘I can’t help but think that we let Grandfather down, though,’ Tsunade admitted. ‘Him and the whole village. I mean, we’re meant to be the Senjus, aren’t we? Surely, we should have the ability to perform the same feats as him? Isn’t that the point of a Clan – the secret techniques and Kekkei Genkai?’

Jun swallowed thickly, blood dribbling in a thin line from the corner of his mouth. ‘May I ask you a question?’

‘Sure.’

‘How many of the Senju Clan could actually use wood release?’

Tsunade paused for thought, her knuckles turning white around the pendant of her inherited necklace. ‘I…to my knowledge, only Grandfather. Uncle Tobirama never…’ She lost her words as the obvious dawned on her.

‘Don’t you see’ Jun said. ‘Wood release was never a defining trait of the Senju Clan. I can’t tell you why it manifested in Hashirama – perhaps he was some sort of Chosen One, or something? I can’t pretend to know the fate of the universe, or the turns of destiny. But the fact is, Princess Tsunade, your value as a person and your status as a Senju is not lessened by this inability to use a rare and sporadic power. What makes you a Senju is something else, something much more important, and something Taichi will never understand.’

‘What?’ Tsunade murmured, lifting her head from where it was resting on her knees.

Jun smiled, his hand in hers. ‘You have heart. You know better than anyone that your Grandfather placed heart, kindness, and valour _far_ above power. You’re a better person than your father, Princess. And you have the potential to be better than us all.’

Tsunade looked at his face. He was smiling, tears in his eyes. He was looking at her how Taichi used to. How a father would.

‘Thank you, Jun,’ Tsunade whispered.

They sat for a while in silence, waiting for Jiraiya and Orochimaru to return. There wasn’t anything left to be said. When the strength in his quivering fingers faltered, Tsunade knew he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, we're getting to the heart of things, now. There's a quite a lot of OCs hanging around, but they're necessary for the story to progress. I had trouble with this chapter, and I'm sorry that is it very exposition heavy, but again, it's sort of necessary. Next chapter, things really heat up!  
> I took a great deal of influence from the Naruto Shippuden Movie The Will of Fire for this piece with regards to the obtaining of kekkei genkai, so I certainly take no credit for that plot thread!   
> Thanks for your kind comments on last week's chapter. They really make me happy, even if I'm in a bit of a rut at the moment. Take it easy and happy reading xo


	17. Resolve and Ambition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enemy have philosophical contemplations, the future Sannin make their move, and Sakumo Hatake progresses on his journey.  
> *WARNING* For graphic depictions of violence and bodily harm.

Chapter 17 – Resolve and Ambition

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

The trio decided not to bury Jun. It was wrong to let him rot away in the earth of a foreign land. In the end, Jiraiya completed the grim task of laying Jun, Touta and Noriko in a morbid row out on the grass to take them back to Konoha. Tsunade left her flak jacket covering Jun – if anything to hide the nasty gash in his stomach – while Touta and Noriko merely looked like they were slipping. Save the slits in their throats, one might not notice they had departed at all. As Jiraiya rinsed his bloody hands in the nearby stream, Orochimaru debriefed Tsunade on what they had discovered at the cave.

‘There are numerous prisoners, we could tell that for certain,’ he said, sitting crossed-legged on the ground next to her. Tsunade was leaning against a tree, looking wistfully over to where Jun and the other two were lying. Three dead, and for what? So some power-hungry enemy could get their hands on other people’s power? She gritted her teeth, barely listening to what Orochimaru was saying.

‘From our side, I could only confirm the presence of Hiromichi Uchiha,’ Orochimaru continued, acutely aware that Tsunade’s mind was elsewhere, but deciding to follow protocol regardless. ‘He was chained up and connected to some sort of IV pumping a liquid I can only assume is a component of the Fear-cap mushrooms we encountered. There were a couple of other chambers presumably leading to the other captured Shinobi, but I could not confirm the presence of Komako or Fumihiro, though Hiromichi’s discovery suggests these Boar people have the other two as well.’

‘Did you find out who’s behind all this?’ Tsunade muttered.

Orochimaru didn’t miss her tone of voice. She sounded angry, much angrier than she had been a few hours ago. An angry Tsunade was a worry; she became hot-headed and rash, and considering he already had to deal with one teammate with such a disposition, he was not looking forward to trying to quell a second. He needed backup. He knew that from the moment they had found Jun in his sorry state. The enemy were not ordinary Shinobi.

‘Not entirely,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘Though we were able to locate the presence of the woman Jun mentioned before he…passed on. She had a single Byakugan permanently activated. In fact, when she turned towards our hiding place, I am almost certain she saw us – that’s why we fled before confirming the locations of Komako and Fumihiro.’

‘The Byakugan alone is enough to suggest Fumihiro is somewhere in that mountain,’ Jiraiya said, heading over and wiping his now clean hands on his trousers. ‘And since we know that woman attacked Jun and Komako, I’d bet my lucky kunai she’s there as well.’

‘Then we need to get moving,’ Tsunade said, in that same, dangerously level tone.

Orochimaru sighed. ‘I’m not sure about how best to proceed. While they didn’t immediately sense our presence in the mountain, which suggests they are unlikely to be Jonin level, there are _still_ a lot of them. Not including the woman we knocked unconscious, Jiraiya and I counted eleven. There could be more. And, as Jun reported, these people have obtained Kekkei Genkai – we don’t know how many for sure, but we could be facing anything from explosion release to magnet release. I respect you two a great deal, but you are still Chuunin. I’m not convinced we can handle this on our own.’

‘Bullshit,’ Tsunade snapped, standing up. ‘I was ready to go off and face them alone, regardless of their power, and do you know what? I still am. I’ll face them. I’ll take them all on.’

‘And that, Tsunade, is why you are not a Jonin,’ Orochimaru said dryly. ‘You need to learn to use your head. Go in there alone and you’ll be killed, maybe even instantly like those other two Chuunin. Don’t be stupid.’

‘What if we managed to free Hiromichi, Komako and Fumihiro, though?’ Jiraiya offered. ‘Then we’d have two Jonin and four Chuunin, two of which possess Kekkei Genkai.’

‘We have no idea what state they’d be in,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Fumihiro is already missing an eye, and I don’t think our enemies are so courteous as to patch up such a wound. Not to mention that they’ve all been enduring the effects of the Fear-caps for goodness knows how long. You know first head the psychological trauma such an intense trance can elicit, Jiraiya. There’s no predicting whether they’d be able to fight or not.’

Jiraiya fell silent, wincing at the memory of his brief time under the Fear-caps. He had barely coped for the few minutes he had to endure them; he couldn’t imagine how horrific it must have been for the others.

‘We can’t just sit here and do nothing,’ Tsunade said. ‘Three people have already died, Oro – we can’t let any more fall here. Not now we’ve come this far.’

‘I agree with Tsu,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I know it isn’t the most logical step to make. Hell, I’d go as far to say it’s stupid. But…if we don’t do something, there might not be anyone left to rescue. You saw that woman – she must have ripped Fumihiro’s eye straight from his socket. Are you really okay with standing idle as she and her team hack little bits off our comrades for any longer than they already have?’

Orochimaru knew there was little point in arguing. He might as well have not wasted his breath stressing the numerous reasons why the mission would fail and they’d likely end up dead – Jiraiya and Tsunade simply did not care. One was a hero to the core, and the other was earnest in her attempts to ‘do the right thing’. Orochimaru didn’t really know which category he fell in. There was Jiraiya, the boy fighting to save the world; there was Tsunade, the girl striving to improve the world she was already in; and he, Orochimaru, the boy working to uphold what was already in place. He had realised long ago that his ideals clashed with those of his teammates – they were both trying to either change or better the system, while he was working to maintain it. Follow the rules. Listen to orders. Heed warnings. Do as Danzo told him.

But, for once, Danzo wasn’t there, breathing down his neck. For once, Orochimaru could do the same thing as he friends. He could be the hero. For once, he could lead the charge for good.

‘Alright,’ he sighed. ‘It’s a crackpot plan and you two are clearly fools for thinking it’s going to all work out, but alright.’

*

Miki Fugiwara stood, hands on her hips, as she oversaw Takahiro’s latest medical examination. She had ordered him to pick up the pace – earlier in the day, she had sensed the arrival of two uninvited guests, but had not been quick enough to apprehend them. She had also discovered the unconscious form of one of her subordinates who had unceremoniously been knocked out. Someone was clearly on to them – she knew Ren should have stuck around to finish the Konoha Shinobi off for good – but, for whatever reason, they had retreated. But Miki had a nasty feeling the retreat was tactical.

‘How much longer? We need to get out of here at some point, Takahiro,’ she complained, peering over his shoulder at the diagrams he was sketching.

‘Amazing,’ he whispered, in his scratchy voice.

‘Hello? Earth to Takahiro?’ Miki said, lightly tapping on the old man’s head as if she miming knocking on a door. When he didn’t immediately respond, Miki took to putting both arms around his shoulders and tugging at his neck like she was a little kid trying to get her father’s attention, whining all the while.

Takahiro didn’t even bother to shrug her off. He was used to Miki by now – after all, they’d been part of the Inoshishi together for several years – but he did finally lift his head up from his work. He was busy studying the Sharingan from the Konoha boy they had apprehended some weeks back. While he had not gone ahead and permanently removed it from the boy’s skull, while locked under the influence of the Fear-caps, he could study its workings in great detail. Never before had he been so up close with the Uchiha’s famous dojutsu, and it excited him greatly.

‘Listen, Miki,’ he said eventually, once Miki had taken to poking at his side over and over again like a pestering cat demanding attention, ‘my work will take as long as it needs to. I’m at a crucial stage with this study, and moving my equipment and the boy with surely disturb my processes.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Miki pouted. ‘We need to get a move on out of this place – someone was definitely here earlier, and if they’re not as stupid as the other Hidden Village Shinobi we’ve met so far, they’ll bring reinforcements. I don’t want a massacre on our hands, not now we’re finally so close to obtaining our goal.’

‘You really mean you’ll stop hunting Kekkei Genkai once we’ve dealt with our current prisoners?’ Takahiro scoffed. ‘You can’t lie to me, Miki. We were going to stop once Kenichi obtained steel release. Hell, you swore we’d stop once Ren acquired ice release from the Yuki Clan, but it was the same thing again. You’re insatiable, Miki. It frightens me sometimes.’

‘It’s different this time,’ she said, leaning against the cave wall. ‘I mean, we’ve got two dojutsu, for goodness sake. Once you crack how the Sharingan ticks, we can gift them to your daughter Aki. With those in our arsenal, we’ll be an even more substantial threat.’

‘And the woman from the Senju Clan? What about her?’ Takahiro said. ‘You can’t pull the wool over my eyes – I know you’re itching to uncover the workings of wood release. And after that, you’ll want more. You’ll want something absurd, like the mythical Rinnegan. By all means, Miki, we can pack up and leave, but don’t you think this is the last of it. You won’t rest until you’ve got them all. I know you.’

Miki jutted out her lower lip in an irritated pout. ‘Whatever, old man. Just hurry up and finish your work so we can get out of here.’

‘I’ll work faster if you stop pestering me.’

Miki couldn’t help but smile to herself as she watched Takahiro work. As much as Takahiro acted like he found her annoying – even more so than his own daughter – he could never disguise his fondness for her. After all, she had given him everything he craved: power, occupation, and experimentation. And she never thought him lesser because of his missing arm, unlike the Mizukage. She respected him as a fellow human being and as a colleague, and embraced him into the Inoshishi as if he was her own family. She liked to imagine he was. She liked to play house in her mind – she and Kenichi were Aki’s parents, Takahiro was the grumpy but doting grandfather, and Ren was the immature Uncle who got drunk at family gatherings and ruined everything. Her own family, her _real_ family, had died long ago, fighting in a nonsense war they were too weak to participate in. It didn’t matter to the Raikage, though. To the Hidden Villages, Shinobi were just cannon fodder. It did not matter if they left families behind.

She swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to look at herself in the cave’s crystal again. Preening herself was a habit she had gotten into when she was a girl. No one knew the real reason she did it so much. It was because every time she glanced at her reflection, for a split second, she thought it was her mother looking back at her. If only for a moment, one fleeting, beautiful moment, Miki felt like she had her again. Now with the Byakugan staring back at her, she looked less like her. But her new eye was a manifestation of power, a shining icon of everything she wanted – a sense of power, a Kekkei Genkai, and a connection to a Clan. A family. She wasn’t so deluded to think that sticking an eye in her face made her a Hyuga, but to simply be associated with a large family was enough. It was enough. Just enough.

‘Hey, Miki?’ Takahiro said, jogging her out of her thoughts. She looked at him. He had an excited expression on his sagging features. His beard needed trimming, she noticed. He struggled to do it with one hand. Kenichi tended to help him, in the quieter moments when he wasn’t dosing the prisoners up on Fear-caps, and when Takahiro wasn’t immersed in his work.

Those were the moments Miki loved the most – not the fighting, or the imprisoning, or the studying, but the times of what she could only call familial peace. When Takahiro would grumble that Kenichi had taken too much of his beard off, and Kenichi would mutter something incomprehensible under his breath before rinsing the scissors. When Ren would be sulking in the corner, bitter about one thing or another, before deciding to entertain Aki by using his ice release to create a torrent of snow. And when Aki would lament about how she would change the world, her eyes bright and starry, when she had her own Kekkei Genkai to use. She didn’t care where it came from – she only wanted to use it for her vision. _A village, where people can live and work and be free_ , she would say, beaming up at the snowflakes Ren had conjured like he was a magician. _Where people don’t have to fight in petty wars. Where they’re judged on their values as human beings, not by how many jutsu they can perform. Wouldn’t that be nice, Dad?_ And Takahiro would ruffle her hair, forgetting his irritation at Kenichi for the ‘too short’ beard, and Ren, who was sitting in the corner picking at his nails, would wonder, briefly, how it came to this. How a girl of 13 would be dreaming of a place of security after her country had betrayed her. And how people would think her wrong for dreaming such a dream. And how, once upon a distant time, the two men who built Konoha had shared that same dream.

‘What is it, Takahiro?’ Miki said, pulling herself out of her thoughts.

‘If I’m correct, the Sharingan’s manifestation is not ‘natural’, like the Byakugan,’ he said, his voice hoarse with enthusiasm. ‘You see, from my studies, I have concluded that, while the Byakugan is present from birth, the Sharingan must be activated.’

‘Activated? What do you mean?’

‘Well, from what I can tell from looking at the Uchiha boy’s chakra network, a special charka is released from the brain into the optic nerve, which triggers the eyes we are familiar with. But this chakra release, I think, can only be triggered _in response_ to a powerful emotional condition. Once that has been achieved, it looks as though the user has to master this charka. You saw the tomoe in the boy’s eyes when we first faced him, yes?’

‘Yeah,’ Miki nodded, remembering the little black symbols in the boy’s retinas.

‘He had two, but it appears there are normally three stages after this emotional condition – one with a single tomoe, one with two, and a final stage with three. At the stage, the user can unlock and master all the abilities associated with the Sharingan – be it formidable perception, charka network visibility, copying abilities, and genjutsu casting. To put it simply, the boy we have in custody has not yet fully matured his Sharingan.’

‘So, extracting it now would be counterproductive?’ Miki asked.

‘Indeed,’ Takahiro nodded. ‘We, since we do not utilise the same chakra as the Uchiha, would find it much more difficult to fully mature the Sharingan should we take it now. Whatsmore, it would consume enormous amounts of Charka. While not impossible to access the third and final tomoe, thus granting all of the Sharingan’s exceptional abilities, it is unlikely Shinobi of our calibre would be able to do so.’

‘Right,’ Miki said slowly.

‘Finally,’ Takahiro said, now breathless with excitement, ‘I have a theory that even the third tomoe is not the final stage of transformation. We’ve all heard the rumours about the Uchiha’s prowess, so this is not just mere speculation – I think the Sharingan has the ability to transform into an even more impressive form of ocular jutsu. Tell me, Miki, have you heard for the phenomena known as the Mangekyo Sharingan?’

Miki shook her head. Takahiro seemed more than willing to explain.

‘So, the Mangekyo Sharingan is recognised at the ultimate form,’ Takahiro said. ‘I cannot say for certain what it would achieve, but I can surmise that its activation is as a result of an emotional trigger, just like the Sharingan’s original manifestation. It also uses a chakra network, one that links the optic nerve to a section of the brain known as the amygdala. It is the centre of emotion, learning, and memory, and part of the system that processes our reflexive emotions like fear and anxiety. Therefore, I can make an educated guess as to what sort of emotional experience is necessary for the awakening of the Mangekyo: extreme trauma as a result of fear and anxiety.’

‘God, you’re a clever old man, aren’t you?’ Miki smirked. ‘Still, it’s odd to think a Clan as powerful and renowned as the Uchiha rely on something as elusive as ‘emotion’ to trigger their most powerful weapon. They sure must feel a lot.’

‘It has been said that the Uchiha are locked in a ‘Cycle of Hatred’,’ Takahiro said. ‘Though really, I think those who listen so much to their emotions that they can unlock power are the really exceptional ones. I’d wager the Uchiha love as powerfully as they hate.’

‘But what of the kid?’ Miki said. ‘Do we wait around for the third tomoe, or go as far to trigger this Mangekyo thingy?’

‘That, my dear, is up to you,’ Takahiro said. ‘It would be wise to at least wait for the third tomoe to appear – which may not be long, considering the emotional stress the boy is under as he endures the Fear-caps’ potency – but the Mangekyo is more complex.’

‘We could always traumatise him within an inch of his life and force it to come out,’ Miki muttered.

Takahiro sighed. ‘I thought you might say that, you little sadist. The crux of the issue is that we may permanently damage his cognitive behaviour if we keep him under the Fear-caps. Plus, given the emotional intensity required for the Mangekyo’s chakra to be secreted, fake fear might not be enough.’

A cunning smile crept over Miki’s features. ‘Well, it’s a good thing we have his friend chained up in the neighbouring room.’

*

‘If you step on my foot one more time, I am going to blast you out of this mountain and all the way back to Konoha,’ Tsunade hissed. 

‘It’s not my fault!’ Jiraiya shot back. ‘It’s dark in here!’

Orochimaru scowled to himself as the pair began to bicker for the umpteenth time. The route into the mountain he had selected _was_ dark, but that also meant there was a lower chance of discovery. He decided that barging through the genjutsu disguised front door with _kai_ was not the smartest move, considering the enemy would be on high alert, though judging by the racket Tsunade and Jiraiya were making, he felt they may as well have gone through the entrance after all.

They were stooped as they struggled along the mountain cavity, using Orochimaru’s impressive sense of direction to navigate the tunnels. From their observations, they had surmised that the enemy occupied three main chambers that had been artificially hollowed out of the mountain’s interior, presumably from an earth style jutsu. In one of the main chambers, Hiromichi was chained up, surrounding by equipment Orochimaru could only assume was for experiments. The other two chambers they had not directly seen, but they were operating under the educated guess that the others were probably in at least one of them. As a result, once they’d made their way into the main chamber, they would split up to cover more ground. Orochimaru had strictly told them not to engage, since they’d have a better chance using their teamwork to take down the enemy, but he had a nasty feeling they would charge ahead anyway. Regardless, that was the plan.

It didn’t take long to reach the main chamber of the mountain, though by the time they’d arrived, Jiraiya had bumbled into Tsunade so many times she was starting to think he was doing it on purpose as an excuse for being close to her. Were it not such a severe situation, she might have gone through on her threat of blasting him out of the mountainside, but as it stood, she was too preoccupied with worry. If she didn’t save her mother, she’d have to go home and tell Nawaki and Mito that she’d failed. She’d have to look them in the eye and break the news. She wasn’t sure if she was able to do that, not with Nawaki being so young. Not to mention Taichi’s reaction – truly, she feared what he would do.

‘Halt,’ Orochimaru whispered. Jiraiya nearly walked into Tsunade again from the suddenness of the pause, but luckily for him, he caught himself.

Orochimaru pressed his eye to a thin, hairline crack in the wall of the mountain, sensing movement from behind the stone. He could just about make out a figure, perhaps two, milling about inside. It was the main chamber, but it wasn’t as occupied as he thought. He knew there were others, probably guarding outside or scouting out other unsuspecting Kekkei Genkai users, but he wasn’t so foolish as to burst in, all guns blazing. He squinted, thankful for the lines of torches inside the main chamber that lit the room, and counted six. There was a young man with red hair who was grinning at a girl who looked even younger than he was. The man was making a flurry of snow to fall all around her. He realised instantly it was the ice release user. The others were merely stood with their arms folded, almost as if they were on guard. He gestured for Tsunade and Jiraiya to retreat slightly so they could talk.

‘Okay,’ he said, his voice low, ‘I’ve identified the main chamber. I can make out just six people in there, though one appears to be very young. I didn’t see the woman with the Byakugan, nor any of the other prisoners. Though I suspect one of the men in there is the ice release user.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Jiraiya said.

‘He was creating snow,’ Orochimaru replied quietly. ‘I’ve dealt with members of the Yuki Clan before – those who use ice release – and as far as I can tell, it’s familiar.’

‘So, he’s one of the bastards who killed Jun?’ Tsunade growled, her fists clenched.

‘I assume so. But if anyone is going to face him, Tsunade, it will be me. Like I said, I’ve had a lot of first-hand experience going up against ice release, so I am the best equipped to deal with him,’ Orochimaru said coolly. ‘We’re not going to do anything just yet, though. Our wisest bet is to identify the woman with the Byakugan, find the other chambers, and work out the positions of Komako, Fumihiro and Hiromichi. Clear?’

Tsunade and Jiraiya didn’t argue, much to his surprise. They carried on down the narrow path, Orochimaru trying all the while to remember the direction he and Jiraiya had taken. It was much harder progressing down the cavities of the mountain compared to being in the manmade hollows of the chamber, but it was better than alerting the enemy.

In the second chamber, there was a nasty surprise. Orochimaru had to physically grab Jiraiya to stop him from blasting through the wall and attacking the enemy head-on, which was no easy feat, considering Jiraiya’s strength and determination. He did manage to hold him back, though, but Jiraiya was shaking between his arms, his teeth grinding and his jaw clenched. Hiromichi Uchiha was chained up on a metal pole of sorts, two thin, mechanical wires prising his eyes open. Tears were streaming silently down his face as, in front of him, a man was busy, for want of a better word, torturing Fumihiro Hyuga. The man’s finger nails had been transformed using steel release to produce sharp, shining claws, and he was thrashing them over and over against Fumihiro’s bloody body. Most disturbing, however, was that whenever Fumihiro seemed to lose consciousness, the man would dig mercilessly into his empty eye socket. Fumihiro’s screams echoed about the chamber, and all Hiromichi could do was watch as his teammate was tortured in front of him. The horrified trio, of course, didn’t realise it was for the purpose of awakening Hiromichi’s Mangekyo.

‘Oro, we need to stop this,’ Jiraiya hissed. ‘Let me go, dammit! Let me help them!’

‘Not yet,’ Orochimaru hissed. ‘Stick the plan, Jiraiya. We still need to locate Komako before we can make any hasty decisions!’

‘But he’s torturing them!’ Jiraiya protested.

‘I can see that!’ Orochimaru snapped, not bothering to lower his voice since Fumihiro’s screams would surely disguise their voices. ‘But we can’t make a move yet! It would alert the enemy and then they’d have time to prepare themselves, maybe even sealing Komako away somewhere we can’t get to her! Didn’t you see those other two goons in there with them? They’re keeping watch!’

In truth, Jiraiya hadn’t noticed the presence of the other two people stood in the bloody chamber. He was too caught up in his own horror. What on earth were they doing? _Why_ were they doing that? They had already taken one of Fumihiro’s eyes, so why had they chained Hiromichi up in such a way with both his Sharingan still intact? He ground his teeth together. If he was in Hiromichi’s situation, watching Tsunade or Orochimaru get so brutally tortured and manhandled, he feared he wouldn’t cope. There was also no telling how much longer Fumihiro was going to last in his state. They had to act quickly.

‘Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said softly, ‘we’ll come back for them, alright? In fact, _you_ can. We’ll send you in, and you can save them. Okay?’

Orochimaru was going to protest, thinking a man using steel release (a very rare Kekkei Genkai none of them were familiar with) was going to be too much for Jiraiya to handle, especially with the other two guards, but he realised immediately what Tsunade was thinking. If he was going to face the ice release user and the other members of the organisation in the main chamber, she was almost certainly going after her mother, whatever the risk. It was the most logical step forward, but Orochimaru couldn’t help the flare of anxiety in the pit of his stomach at the thought of letting them face the enemy alone. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a wise plan after all.

‘We could wait,’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘We could wait after all, you know? Call Sarutobi-sensei for backup. Now we’ve done all the groundwork, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to request more forces. Not to mention the fact that some of our own are bound to be around Kagero Village right now, which isn’t too far from here in the grand scheme of things. We could hold fire.’

‘Oro, we’ve been through this. There is no way we’re waiting,’ Jiraiya said.

‘But -’

‘– if you’re worried about me, don’t be,’ Jiraiya said, flashing a confident smile to try and lessen the tension. ‘Don’t you forget, I’ve been training in senjutsu with the Toads of Myoboku. I’m a hell of a lot stronger than I was back in the day. I can handle it. We both can.’

Orochimaru looked at them both in the low light. Their eyes appeared to be blazing in a heroic poise and self-assurance he rarely saw. Anxious though he was for his precious friends, he knew their resolve was much more powerful than he gave them credit for. Orochimaru wasn’t stupid – he knew determination might not be enough. After all, a goldfish determined to leave the tank can’t suddenly breathe air. But there was something in that moment, a warmth, or a beat, or the guts to never give up. And it was that something that made him trust them both more than he ever had before.

So, they kept going, their pace increased. None of them could leave Fumihiro and Hiromichi for too long in good conscience, even Tsunade, who had numerous bones to pick with the pair of them. While Hiromichi was less cold towards her ever since Hiruzen took over as Hokage (as if that was enough to erase Tobirama’s wrongdoings regarding the Uchiha), Fumihiro still carried a deep seeded resentment towards her family for the death of his mother. Tobirama’s demise was not enough to quell that, and without Jiraiya and Orochimaru around for much of her pre-teen years, he gave her a hard time. But even she couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving to wither and die, despite everything. Such is the power of comradery.

The third chamber brought with it relief and trepidation. For one thing, it seemed to be the main prison area. It was made up of two sections; one held the majority of the prisoners, all chained up and being pumped by IV with a component from the Fear-caps. They were moaning and muttering in fear, covered in sweat, blood dripping from where the shackles had grazed and cut their skin. There were five in total – three of the bloodied metal poles were empty, two of which presumably belonged to Fumihiro and Hiromichi, and a couple which had been cleaned. Orochimaru had a horrible feeling their occupants were long since dead.

Komako, her red hair lank and hanging heavily over her face, had been dragged, IV and all, into the other section where the woman with the Byakugan was stood, muttering in quiet tones to an older man clutching a clipboard. None of them could make out what they were saying. All they could hear were the sounds of fear from the prisoners.

‘Mother…’ Tsunade whispered.

‘Hang on a second,’ Jiraiya murmured. ‘That woman over there – she’s from Konoha too, isn’t she?’

‘That’s Shion Rosh,’ Tsunade said, with a sudden realisation. ‘She – she’s only a year older than us. I know from the hospital. She was in the psych ward. I had no idea she’d gone missing, too.’

‘The psych ward? What was she doing there?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘She’s part of the Kurama Clan,’ Tsunade replied. ‘She changed her surname to cut ties, since that Clan is so…’

‘So infamous,’ Orochimaru nodded. While being part of Konoha, the Kurama Clan was on Danzo’s blacklist and under secret scrutiny. There were few members left, their numbers having dwindled during Hashirama’s early reign, despite their skill in genjutsu. Many were ostracised for this power, because every few generations, a member would be born with a terrifying ability to make any genjutsu real, thus resulting in the accidental death of their victims should the power go untamed. Orochimaru was surprised neither Hiruzen or Danzo had registered Shion’s disappearance. He was equally surprised that the enemy knew she was from the Kurama Clan.

‘She was a permanent resident there,’ Tsunade explained. ‘She was kicked out of the Academy on day one and told not to pursue the Shinobi path because she…she was really, really bad at controlling her power. To her, everything in her head became real. She admitted herself to the ward a few years ago, before we became Chuunin, for accidentally killing a villager. If she hadn’t admitted herself, she would probably have been imprisoned. Biwako and the other medical ninjas keep her under surveillance, and use chakra streams and hallucinogenic drugs to quell her power.’

‘Hallucinogenics?’ Jiraiya said. ‘That seems harsh.’

‘Perhaps, but it at least explains why the Fear-caps are working,’ Tsunade replied. ‘In any case, the real error was made when the Academy wouldn’t let her stay. If she grasped hold of her power properly, there’s no telling what she might have been able to achieve.’

‘I suppose that’s why the enemy want her Kekkei Genkai so much, then,’ Orochimaru said.

‘So, we add Shion to the rescue list, too? She’s a citizen of Konoha, isn’t she?’ Jiraiya said.

‘She’d be a liability,’ Orochimaru said dismissively. ‘What if her powers get out of control once she’s released? It would be exceptionally hard to keep a lid on her, as it were.’

‘No, I’d be able to quell her power for at least as long as it takes to get home,’ Tsunade said firmly. ‘Plus, Shion is…she’s a nice person. A decent person. It’s not her fault she was born the way she was.’

‘Right!’ Jiraiya said.

‘The next thing you’re going to suggest is saving all the foreign Shinobi too, I bet,’ Orochimaru muttered.

Tsunade shrugged. ‘I’ll leave that to your discretion, Oro.’

*

The plan was decided. Orochimaru would be facing the ice release user and the other few guards, in the main chamber. Jiraiya would be going up against the steel release user to free Fumihiro and Hiromichi, while Tsunade would face the Byakugan user and the older man, whose powers remained unknown. Orochimaru had pointed out the man was handicapped because of his missing arm, but that did little to hinder a Shinobi, or indeed anyone, with the right dedication. The trickiest part of the ordeal was finding the perfect moment to strike. Luckily, Jiraiya had a plan for that.

‘I’ll summon three of the Myoboku toads,’ he proposed. ‘One to go with Oro, one with Tsu, and one with me. The toads have signalling methods that would not be detected – in other words, their way of contacting each other is a lot more inconspicuous than if we tried to signal each other. They have something called a vocal sac, which works like an inflatable amplifier that operates at a higher frequency than we humans can hear. The idea is, if Oro’s calls from the main chamber when he’s ready to go, the second, my one, would hear it. He would then call to Tsunade’s. Once they’ve heard three of their calls, they’ll let us know. At that moment, I’ll get mine to signal once more, and we strike, all at once! The enemy won’t know what hit ‘em!’

Tsunade and Orochimaru blinked at each other. They certainly hadn’t expected Jiraiya to come up with such a sound plan.

‘Are you sure you’ll be able to pull off summoning three toads?’ Orochimaru asked.

Jiraiya pouted. ‘Sheesh, gimmie some credit. I’m only going to summon the little guys, at any rate, but c’mon, Oro. I can summon giant Toad Sages if I need to!’

‘That’s settled then,’ Tsunade nodded, impressed. ‘Get to work on your summoning jutsu, and we’ll head to our respective positions.’

For once, Jiraiya’s plan worked. He sent two toads along with Tsunade and Orochimaru as they got into position, each keeping a careful eye through the cracks in the stone at the enemy. Jiraiya, through gritted teeth, was watching grimly as the steel release user relentless tortured poor Fumihiro.

‘You alright there, Jiraiya?’ Gama asked. He was tiny, but would, in time, become a large toad totally loyal to Jiraiya. He was a burnt orange in colour and covered in blue markings, and his webbed fingers were currently resting supportively on Jiraiya’s shoulder.

‘I…yeah,’ Jiriaya muttered. ‘It’s just I’ve known those two since we were kids. Seeing them like this is just – just a lot to deal with, that’s all.’

‘The moment I hear from Gamatama and Kosuke, you can dive in there and save them,’ Gama said earnestly.

‘I know,’ Jiraiya nodded.

‘Just don’t do anything stupid, alright? The old man back home would kill me if anything happened to you, Jiraiya,’ Gama said.

Jiraiya smirked. ‘No chance of that. After all, I can’t pop my clogs until I’ve passed on my legacy to the Child of Prophecy, right?’

‘That’s true enough. Just keep your head screwed on right, you hear?’

‘I don’t need a lecture from you, pipsqueak.’

Orochimaru was being accompanied by Kosuke, a messenger toad with a serious disposition. He wasn’t best pleased about being so suddenly summoned by Jiraiya to a dark, dank cave, but once he learnt of the severity of the situation, he was more than willing to lend a flipper. He was watching Orochimaru curiously. Never before had he seen a human as still as he currently was – if Kosuke didn’t know any better, he’d say Orochimaru had turned to stone. It was simply intense focus, but as Orochimaru crouched in the dark, his unblinking eyes surveying every move the red-headed ice release user inside, Kosuke couldn’t help but feel that something cataclysmic was about to occur.

Meanwhile, Gamatama, who wasn’t even a fully matured toad, was observing Tsunade with a similar sense of trepidation. She was staring through the crack as the Byakugan user and the man with one arm poked and prodded her mother, the man making notes all the while. She had no idea what they were doing, but she was linked up to two mechanical machines; one was the IV supplying the component of the Fear-caps, and the other seemed to be draining her blood periodically for what Tsunade could only guess was analysis.

‘Damn wood release,’ she hissed. It brought with it so much trouble – Komako’s private insecurities at being the daughter of the First Hokage, Taichi’s destructive behaviour, and Tsunade’s own anxieties about her status as a Senju. She clutched at the necklace around her neck, suddenly missing the warmth of her flak jacket she had left covering Jun. _Jun_. He’d died for so-called wood release, too. As she watched her mother’s skin grow paler, starkly apparent against the bright redness of her hair, she decided that her Grandfather’s Kekkei Genkai was more of a curse than a blessing.

Gamatama made the quietest squeak, and Tsunade jerked her head up.

‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘I heard one call, then a pause, then another,’ Gamatama said, his voice small and high-pitched. ‘My third call completes the chain. Once we get the go ahead from Gama, we can move forward, Princess Tsunade.’

Tsunade’s face twisted into a grimace. ‘How come a little guy like you knows about that stupid Princess nickname?’

‘Jiraiya spoke of you often during his stay at Myoboku,’ Gamatama replied simply.

Tsunade didn’t know what to make of that.

*

As the trio and their toads got into position, Miki and Takahiro were deep in conversation regarding the dwindling state of the wood release user, Komako Senju. Her body seemed to be sagging under its own weight, and she had fallen silent. For a while, she had done nothing but cry out from the visions the Fear-caps had been inducing. A mixture of harrowing screams sounding like _Tsunade!_ and _Nawaki!_ plagued the rocky corridors ever since they’d brought her in, so her unexpected silence was a bad sign. Takahiro was looking grave. 

‘She’s not in a good state, Miki,’ he said, in his gruff voice.

‘What do you mean?’ Miki snapped, uncharacteristically short with him. ‘She’s only been under the Fear-caps for a few days. Surely, they can’t cause that much damage? I mean, some of these poor bastards have been enduring dosages for weeks!’

‘Everyone’s mental state is different to begin with, don’t forget,’ Takahiro muttered. ‘Some people are much more vulnerable than others. Whatsmore, while each fear is unique to an individual in its intensity and ability to paralyse, they cannot be called ‘equal’.’

‘But that doesn’t make sense,’ Miki said sharply. ‘A fear of spiders can be just as terrifying as a fear of death, depending on the observer. All fear is felt the same. It just depends on the person feeling it.’

Takahiro chuckled. ‘That’s rather philosophical of you, young Miki.’

‘It’s the truth,’ Miki said dismissively. ‘Think about it – I don’t want to make assumptions, but I’d bet my new Byakugan that _your_ biggest fear, Takahiro, is anything happening to your daughter Aki. Such an image would likely traumatise you. But me? I’d be upset, sure, but that isn’t my biggest fear. On the other hand, _my_ biggest fear is not the same as yours, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t traumatise me in equal measure.’

Takahiro nodded slowly. ‘An interesting theory. But don’t you think the _perception_ of fear depends on the individual? Don’t forget, Miki, there are those of us who feel more intensely than others. Even those sharing the same biggest fears would feel them differently, depending on their mental disposition and emotional capability.’

‘What are you getting at, old man?’

‘I’m trying to explain that this woman in front of us has been experiencing a fear far greater than the other prisoners. I don’t know if that is down to her mental make-up, or her previous experiences, or even _what_ she is seeing under that trace, but what I _can_ say is that her scans are worrying. Very worrying.’

‘What, so she’s weak?’

‘Far from it,’ Takahiro said sternly. ‘Feeling powerfully does not make us _weak_ , Miki. It is what makes us exceptionally strong.’

Miki was caught off-guard. Takahiro’s assertion reminded her of something her mother once said to her, before she was killed in action. Miki couldn’t even remember the context of the conversation. She could only feel her mother’s warm hands atop her small shoulders, her smiling eyes, and her gentle voice. _There is no more powerful a feeling than a mother’s love, Miki. And there is nothing more precious to a mother than her child._

She glanced at Komako’s slack face, her eyes glassy and so far stretched beyond the point of fear, that she wondered if she herself was a mother. What was she seeing? What was she feeling? A feeling as strong and intense as maternal love, and one equally as painful? It was a risk to have a child, Miki decided. The emotions connected with it could drive you mad with fear, as well as overwhelmed with joy.

‘Would you do anything for Aki, Takahiro?’ Miki asked without thinking.

Takahiro didn’t even seem surprised by her question, despite the unexpected context. ‘In a heartbeat.’

Miki sighed to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘Remind Kenichi and I never to have kids. Seems like a lot of trouble.’

‘Perhaps,’ Takahiro said. ‘But there is no greater privilege.’

‘Tsuna…’ Komako rasped through cracked lips. ‘Nawa…’

‘We need to take her off the Fear-caps,’ Takahiro said, their collective attention being sucked back to Komako’s limp form. ‘Any more and her mind might not take it.’

‘What would happen?’ Miki asked, morbidly curious. ‘What would happen to her mind?’

Takahiro cleared his throat, looking over his clipboard. ‘My theory is that her emotional circuits, as it were, would fry. She’d essentially become almost brain-dead – devoid of all emotional capacity, memory, even regressing in mental age. And I know you’re ambitious, Miki, but even you would draw the line where it comes to experimenting on someone cognitively impaired.’

‘You say that,’ Miki muttered, ‘but you forget what I’ve lost to get this far. At this point, I’m not even sure where the line is.’

Takahiro frowned. ‘Miki, I strongly advise taking this woman off the Fear-caps. Order me to continue with the experiments all you like, but we need to find another way to sedate her. She won’t be able to take much more.’

‘You forget who we’re dealing with,’ Miki said. ‘This woman is the First Hokage’s _daughter_. Putting her under a simple genjutsu won’t be enough. And even if we use a form of drug to keep her under, Hashirama Senju’s medical prowess is renowned – I’ve no doubt that the man’s own daughter would have the means to expel a foreign substance in the body if it was just for purposes of sedation. The Fear-caps are, and always will be, our safest and most reliable way of keeping the prisoners in check.’

‘Then I implore you, shift the focus to wood release _now_ ,’ Takahiro said. ‘Cease experimentation with the Uchiha boy. We can always resume the experiments later, but I fear this woman will not remain stable for much longer. And I…I refuse to experiment on someone who would be so cognitively damaged. It isn’t right.’

‘None of this is right,’ Miki scoffed. ‘Morally speaking, that is. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, old man? After all this time? After all we’ve _done_?’

‘Morality is not clear cut,’ Takahiro murmured. ‘But I know what is completely wrong and what is completely right. Experimenting on a woman so vulnerable is beyond the realm of what I can class as morally justifiable.’

‘You ripped _this_ eye out of a kid’s skull!’ Miki snapped, jerking her thumb at the throbbing Byakugan. ‘A kid hardly older than Aki! So don’t give me that bullshit about protecting the vulnerable, because up until now, you’ve had no qualms about performing invasive and traumatic operations to the other people in these caves!’

Takahiro’s fist tightened around the top of the clipboard. ‘I know. I know. But…’

‘No buts,’ Miki said. ‘Sparing her is pointless anyway. If she regained her strength, she’d attack us all and try to escape. Do you really want to put Aki in such danger?’

Takahiro lowered his eyes. Miki wasn’t wrong. His invasive experiments to isolate the DNA for ice release and steel release had indeed killed their original hosts. He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling so righteous about sparing Komako. Perhaps, deep down, he sensed the presence of another parent.

‘There we have it, then,’ Miki said decidedly. ‘You’re to continue her dose of the Fear-caps and monitor her progress. Even if her mind is compromised, we need to take enough bloods and bone marrow to isolate and examine her DNA. We can’t let wood release slip from our hands, not now it’s so rare.’

‘There’s no evidence she can even use it,’ Takahiro mumbled.

‘That doesn’t matter. If the potential is there, we have to acquire it. We have to.’

Takahiro swallowed thickly. Perhaps the toll of death and the stench of blood and flesh was finally troubling him, for he struggled to follow Miki’s orders. He knew the painful source of her ambitions, and even shared them – he too had been severely wronged by the system, and wanted to fight to change it for the better. In another story, he reckoned Miki would be the unshakable hero, and he the dedicated side-kick. But what they were doing was beyond the scope of a mighty protagonist – it was harsh, cold and cruel. The stories never expose the disturbing truth behind the endeavours of those striving for change. Sacrifice is inevitable. His wish for change outweighed the moral ambiguity of taking so many lives, but the more he took, the more clouded his judgement became. Was a world built on theft and murder really the soil he envisioned a new world would grow from? Was that really Aki’s dream for the future? Was he in the wrong?

He’d never considered it before. He was too driven by bitterness and betrayal, cast out by the village he served, shunned by the man he respected, and abandoned by his fellow Shinobi. Miki had held out a hand and he had taken it, for his sake and for Aki’s. He believed in her goal – _change the system, protect the weak, and work for a collective whole._ But his faith in her was starting to being his unravelling.

The questions he had in his mind, as he observed the crumbling psyche of Komako Senju, had not been present when he first joined, when he was blinded by bitterness. Now, the bitterness was being replaced with something far more dangerous: hope. His hope for the future, his belief in Miki, and the warmth the Inoshishi had provided in his time of need was drowning out the past darkness in his heart. Fulfilling dark deeds requires a darkened heart. But his time with the Inoshishi was shedding light in a life he thought had been permanently stained. The nights with Ren, Kenichi, Aki, and Miki, all together, were the points of light that began tipping the scales. His moral compass was spinning. Light was replacing the dark. And if he believed in the light, how could he serve the dark?

‘Takahiro?’ Miki said. ‘What’s the matter? You’ve gone all pale.’

Takahiro looked at her face, which had shifted from one of sternness to one of concern. _I see_ , he thought. _You’re the light, Miki. You might not be the strongest light, or indeed the purest, but your goal is shining in the distance. We have to touch the darkness to reach it, but you, Miki, you are the light._

‘I’ll do as you as you say, Miki,’ Takahiro said heavily. ‘But watch your ambitions. They may become your downfall.’

*

There were three things Sakumo Hatake was certain of. Firstly, he was tired. His excessive speed from Konoha to cut the journey was weighing in the heaviness of his exhausted limbs, but he didn’t let that stop them. Secondly, he was certain that Tsunade, Orochimaru, and Jiraiya, were somewhere in the series of caves he had broken into. It was easy to break in, given his skill, but he had yet to locate the three renegade youngsters. Thirdly, and perhaps most worrying, he thought he could hear screaming.

Silently, he moved between the shadows cast in the mountains, and keep a mental count of the number of enemies he could see. He assumed that those adorned with the Boar insignia were the target, since the trio he was tracking wouldn’t have progressed inside the mountain without good reason. Whatsmore, he could sense a large mass of chakra pulsating from within. He knew Orochimaru to be skilled, but even he didn’t possess such chakra. There was certainly a gathering of strong Shinobi somewhere in the complex of caves – he hoped dearly that Komako was one of them. He liked Komako. She had been a Sensei to one of the Teams in his graduating year, and he liked her. She was kind and earnest and seemed to hold her position as a Sensei in great regard.

_What was that?_ Sakumo thought to himself, freezing in his tracks. He thought he heard the faintest of noises, like a toad croaking, or something along those lines. Sakumo, unlike the average Shinobi, had refined his senses to the absolute maximum from years of strenuous training. While he didn’t have a nose like the Inuzuka, or the visual field of the Hyuga, his ears were no joke.

There was a second croak. He thought it was coming from above his head somewhere. Frowning, he scrambled up the wall, quietly, so as not to alert the guards, all the while masking his presence, and pressed an ear to the cold rock. He thought he heard shuffling, or something, coming from within the cavity of the mountain.

A third croak, followed by the quiet tones of a voice he recognised.

_How come a little guy like you knows about that stupid Princess nickname?_

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he smirked. ‘Smart kids.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little late! It's technically Sunday here (about 12.30am lol), but I wanted to refine this a bit before posting. Plus, I'm still finishing up my degree and I have a new job, so, you know, I'm a little bit busy.  
> But darn, am I enjoying this! I've accidentally invested too much in my OCs, so I'm sorry if the villains of this chapter have a lot of focus - I just think their POV is interesting for the approach I'm going for.  
> Also THANK YOU for over 1000 hits!! It's amazing! And for those of you who take the time to comment, I really freakin' appreciate it. You guys rock. Feels like I've got a nice thing going here, and it really makes me smile.  
> Take care and make good choices!x


	18. The White Fang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru and Jiraiya face off against the enemy, Sakumo Hatake lends a hand, and Tsunade reunites with her mother.  
> *SPOILER/WARNING* for emotional turmoil, namely a loved one not recognising someone they hold dear.

Chapter 18 – The White Fang

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

‘Yah!!’ Jiraiya bellowed, blasting through the cave wall and into the chamber with a flurry of stone and dust. The final signal from Gama was all he needed (though he had a sneaking suspicion that Orochimaru and Tsunade’s entrances wouldn’t be as rambunctious as his). Still, it had the desired effect – the steel release user stopped in his tracks, abandoning Fumihiro’s bloody body and skidding out of the way of Jiraiya’s leap. Metal coated his forearms as if his skin had turned into armour plating, and he absorbed the full force of Jiraiya’s blow. Jiraiya winced as his fist connected with the steel, but his hit was at least enough to send the man flying backwards.

The other two guards, who weren’t nearly as quick, hastily gathered themselves to face off against Jiraiya. They were no match. In quick succession, Jiraiya showed off the extent of his time with the Toads of Myoboku. Quick as a flash, a flurry of shuriken were expelled from under his sleeve, catching one of the guards as he geared up to attack. With sharp _pings_ , his clothes were snagged and he was pinned against the wall.

Rather unceremoniously, Jiraiya swooped under the battle staff wielded by the second guard, and walloped the pinned man over the head. Then, he spun back around to face the other one, and swung his elbow sharply into the hollow of the man’s neck. With a grunt, the man staggered backwards, the sudden blow stunting his breathing. Jiraiya kicked against the back of his knee, and smacked the edge of his hand against the vulnerable part of his head at the base of his skull. With a moan, the man lost consciousness.

‘Well,’ Jiriaya smirked, dusting his hands together, ‘that took care of that!’

He turned his attention to Hiromichi while the steel user was recovering from the unexpected ambush. The boy was white in the face, his eyes prised open, Sharingan flashing. He was gaping at Jiraiya as if he was some sort of genjutsu. For one horrible moment, he feared he’d lost his mind.

‘J-Jiraiya?’ Hiromichi rasped. ‘Is that – is that really you?’ He tugged at the chains around his wrists, as if seeing another Konoha Shinobi had instilled a newfound vigour in him, but his efforts were in vain.

‘Just stay put, Hiromichi! I’m here to rescue you!’ Jiraiya said, kneeling down to where Fumihiro was lying in a crumpled heap.

‘Stay put?’ Hiromichi muttered. ‘I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.’

‘You know, you could be a little bit more grateful. It took us bloody ages to get here, not to mention the arguments me and the guys had on the way,’ Jiraiya huffed, his fingers pressed to Fumihiro’s wrist to check he was still alive.

‘Don’t tell me you brought that slimy freak and the bratty Princess along with you?’ Hiromichi said, his voice faint but still laced with distain.

Jiraiya glared at him. This was not how he envisioned his epic rescue would unfold. ‘Well, if that’s how you’re gonna be, how about we just pack up and leave you here, huh?’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ Hiromichi said. ‘It’s just…it’s been so long, I figured we’d been left to…die.’

Jiraiya, relieved to feel a gentle pulse through Fumihiro’s wrist, stood up. ‘Never. Come hell or high water, we’d never abandon our comrades.’

Before Hiromichi could respond to the touching declaration, someone cleared their throat.

‘As heart-warming as this reunion is, I don’t recall granting you entry.’

Jiraiya’s head jerked in the direction of the sound, and he squared his shoulders. The man in front of him was the steel release user, Kenichi Mikami. His hair was dark and shot with silver, but he wasn’t old; he looked to be in his twenties. His teeth were gritted together, and Jiraiya could see a flash of silver metal from where he must have replaced a missing tooth. His hands, which were coated in the same steel that absorbed Jiraiya’s hit, were covered in Fumihiro’s blood.

Jiraiya clenched his fists together. Before him was the man responsible for torturing Fumihiro, and for imprisoning both Komako and Hiromichi.

‘Figured I’d drop by,’ Jiraiya muttered.

Kenichi cricked his neck. He was handsome, it had to be noted, but there was a bitterness in his eyes that somehow aged him. It was paradoxical; the cold eyes of a man severely wronged set in a youthful face which didn’t seem old enough to have gone through all the hardships he had.

‘I’m assuming this is supposed to be some sort of rescue?’ he said. His voice was low and monotonous, as if he was bored about being there. ‘I hate to break it to you, kid, but you’re in for a rough ride. That huge explosion you made blasting through the wall would have alerted all of the others. You’re not getting out of this mountain alive.’

Jiraiya smirked and cracked his knuckles. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. You really think I’d be dumb enough to come here alone?’

Kenichi, though it was barely perceptible, allowed a look of concern pass over his face. His mind went to Miki. Was she alright? He fought the urge to abandon the chamber and seek her out – he didn’t want to imagine a world without her in it, after all – but he knew she’d be less than impressed if he let the Uchiha and Hyuga boys to escape. Not to mention that the white-haired boy in front of him intrigued him. He seemed to exude power and authority, though he had yet to display any sign of inherent power: namely, a Kekkei Genkai. Of course, what Kenichi didn’t know was that Jiraiya hadn’t inherited anything. His power came from sheer hard work, and hard work alone.

‘Jiraiya,’ Hiromichi said, ‘if you really have brought Tsunade along with you, you need to know – they got her mother. She’s -’

‘– I know,’ Jiraiya said gravely. ‘We’re planning on busting everyone out of here, including that girl Shion from the Kurama Clan. Don’t worry.’

Kenichi raised his eyebrows. ‘You mean to say the Senju woman is a mother? Well, I suppose it’s good to have a backup word release user if our experiments with the woman fail. Tell me, boy, where is the child?’

‘As if I’d tell you,’ Jiraiya spat, anger boiling up his throat at the thought of them targeting Tsunade. ‘But listen - I’m not here to lock horns. Sure, I have a quarrel with you for what you’ve done to my friends, but if we can walk away without exchanging blows, I think it would be better for the both of us.’

‘Don’t make me laugh,’ Kenichi scoffed. ‘You’re just a snot-nosed kid. You don’t have the capability to take someone like me down.’

‘And yet you had no qualms about kidnapping and chaining up so-called kids just like me,’ Jiriaya shot back. ‘Hiromichi and Fumihiro are my age, you know – what business have you got talking down to me when you’ve taken people exactly like me for their power?’

‘Do you possess a Kekkei Genkai, then, you brat?’ Kenichi growled.

Jiriaya swallowed thickly. ‘No. I don’t. But I didn’t go about stealing someone else’s to make me stronger.’

Kenichi flexed his steel-coated fingers, and short, sharp looking claws extended from each tip like the paw of a jungle cat. ‘If you don’t possess a valuable bloodline, then I have no need to go easy on you.’

Jiraiya glared at him. ‘Do your worst.’

*

Orochimaru thought he heard the sound of an explosion echoing from the other chamber. _That’s got to be Jiraiya_ , he thought, rolling his eyes. He went for a more nuanced approach to enter into the chamber, well aware that his fight with the ice release user would be tough without an over-the-top and obvious entry. He broke through the cave wall, but was so hasty in his movements that the guards couldn’t even track him. He clung to the shadows, clutching a kunai.

‘What was that?’ Ren Kaji, the ice release user, said, getting to his feet. He had heard a crack of stone and the sound of loose rock scattered across the floor. The snowflakes he’d been generating for Aki’s entertainment fell away immediately and dissolved in the air.

‘We’re not sure,’ a guard admitted, cautiously edging towards the hole Orochimaru had crumbled through. ‘Could the wall have collapsed?’

‘Not on its own,’ Ren said edgily. He knelt down to Aki, who was sat crossed-legged on the floor and looking concerned, and patted her on the head. ‘Listen here, Aki. You gotta go and run someplace else, just to be on the safe side, alright?’

‘Why?’ Aki said, her eyes wide. ‘What’s going on, big bro?’

Ren offered her a smile. While he liked to keep up a tough exterior, he always softened when young Aki called him brother. He had a younger sister, once upon a time, but she was lost. Long ago. ‘We’re not too sure. Why do you run along and find your old man, huh? Kyomi will go with you.’

He nodded to one of the four guards. A short woman with a shaved head came forward and placed a hand on Aki’s shoulder.

‘C’mon, you,’ she said softly. ‘I bet your father is with Miki. What’s say we go and find them?’

‘That wouldn’t be wise.’

Ren and Kyomi spun around to find Orochimaru pressing the point of a kunai to the hollow of one of the guard’s neck. He had approached silently and grabbed the man from behind before he even had a moment of react, his hand clasped tightly over his mouth to stop him from crying out. The other two guards made as if to grab him, but Orochimaru pierced his prisoner’s neck ever so slightly, so a bead of blood bubbled to the surface of the man’s pale skin.

‘Make one more and I’ll kill him,’ Orochimaru said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. ‘And don’t go thinking you can apprehend me faster than I can slit his throat – I assure you, I’ve been trained to gut a man in less than a second. Do not test me.’

Aki let out a little whimper, her hand blindly searching from Ren’s and clutching onto it. Ren gritted his teeth. He recognised the pale, dark-haired young man before him as a Shinobi of Konoha, evidenced from his headband that was glinting in the torch light.

‘You bastard,’ he hissed. ‘What are you doing here? What do you want?’

‘Simple,’ Orochimaru shrugged. ‘I want you to release my comrades and hand yourselves over to us. That’s all.’

‘Oh, that’s all?’ Ren said. ‘My bad. For a moment there, I thought you were going to be unreasonable.’

Orochimaru sensed the sarcasm, and it irked him. He pressed the point of the knife harder against the skin of the man’s throat, and he squirmed in his grip. Ren’s eyes flashed.

‘Let him go,’ he said. ‘Let him go, and we can talk. But I’ll not bargain with you while you’re seconds away from killing my friend.’

‘You’re not in a position to bargain regardless,’ Orochimaru said. ‘As long as I keep a hold of your friend, you’re responsible for his life. Choose your course of action carefully.’

Ren felt Aki’s the grip of Aki’s hand increase. The girl had already seen enough bloodshed. ‘Those are dirty tactics, Konoha scum. I thought you Shinobi were meant to have a moral code.’

‘Indeed,’ Orochimaru said icily. ‘And our moral code includes ensuring the safety of our comrades, which you are currently compromising by performing heinous experiments on them and putting them through unspeakable pain and torment.’

‘But it leaves out taking hostages and blackmail, does it?’ Ren spat.

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re certainly not against taking hostages, though, are you?’

‘We have a reason for it,’ Ren snarled. ‘A vision for the future – one you couldn’t possibly hope to understand.’

‘A future built on theft is not one I’d be willing to partake in,’ Orochimaru shot back.

‘Theft? Are you kidding me?’ Ren said, his voice raising. ‘Your precious village is built on the bones of the dead, of the innocent lives you took! Lives you continue to take! You can’t stand there and talk to me about theft when your people did exactly what we’re aspiring to do!’

Orochimaru kept his cool. ‘I wish not to discuss the policies of our founding fathers, not when so much is at stake. I can’t speak for your aspirations, or your lofty world-vision, but I can speak for the people you’ve got chained up in this cave – you have no _right_. And we have been sent to deliver justice. You’re criminals.’

Ren smirked, running a hand through his red hair. He let go of Aki’s hand and cracked his neck. ‘Criminals, are we? What does that make you? The authorities?’

‘If you like,’ Orochimaru said icily.

‘This isn’t even your country,’ Ren said, pointing with his thumb at Orochimaru’s headband. ‘You’re from the Land of Fire, right? In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in the Land of Mountains. We chose this place specifically to use your war with Kagero Village as a smokescreen – but you have no authority here.’

‘We had authority the moment you took our Shinboi,’ Orochimaru said. ‘You might not agree with our interfering here, but you can’t stand there and deny that we have no business or authority when you’re the ones who made it personal.’

‘I find it peculiar, you know,’ Ren said, taking a step closer to Orochimaru, ‘that it’s taken you this long to enact this so-called authority on us. We took the first Konoha Shinobi weeks ago. Why the wait? Aren’t they supposed to be your precious comrades, or something? Seems to me like you were prepared to leave them to rot.’

Orochimaru tightened his grip around his hostage, heat crawling up his throat in anger. He knew the ice release user was right – had it not been for Tsunade’s hot-headedness, Hiruzen would not have sent anyone after the kidnapped Shinobi. He would have left them. And Orochimaru had agreed with that sentiment, until Tsunade and Jiraiya had persuaded him otherwise. Maybe they didn’t have authority? They weren’t acting on the Hokage’s orders, at any rate. In fact, they were actively going against them.

‘Ha,’ Ren smirked. ‘Seemed I hit the nail on the head there, didn’t I?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Orochimaru snarled. ‘The fact of the matter is that you have kidnapped, strung up and _tortured_ citizens of Konoha. We can’t take that lying down.’

‘I don’t see the other Hidden Villages all up in arms about the Shinobi we’ve taken from them,’ Ren replied, not missing a beat.

‘I can’t speak for them,’ Orochimaru said. ‘And there’s little point in discussing this any further. I’ve offered you a bargain and you’re foolish not to take it, given the position I’ve got your friend in.’ For good measure, Orochimaru adjusted the kunai so the edge pressed against the Adam’s apple of the man’s throat, threatening to split it. The man groaned, his voice vibrating against Orochimaru’s hand. Poor Aki, who was looking on at the scene, whimpered again.

Ren ground his teeth together. ‘You’d kill a man in cold blood? With a little kid in the room?’

Orochimaru’s eyes were hard. ‘I’d seen worse at her age.’

*

‘Tsunade,’ Sakumo whispered, grabbing her shoulder before she blasted her way into the chamber. Tsunade jumped out her skin, turning herself around in the small space and jerking away from him. Instinctively she threw her fist towards his face, and he jolted to avoid it. Her knuckles connected with the cave wall, and a large, thick crack spluttered up the rock. Sakumo gulped.

‘Well, you’ve certainly gotten stronger,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Sakumo Hatake?’ Tsunade choked, as the little toad Gamatama disappeared in a puff of smoke. ‘What the hell are you doing here?!’

‘Looking for the three of you,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Lord Hokage sent me to give you a hand, though he isn’t best pleased that you didn’t come back home.’

‘Sarutobi-sensei sent back-up?’ Tsunade said. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yep, and I’m it,’ Sakumo said, offering her a smile. He was seven years older than Tsunade, but he knew her fairly well. He’d trained with her more than once at Tobirama’s behest, and he knew enough about the Senju state of affairs to figure she was strong.

‘Well, I’m not actually sure we even need it,’ Tsunade said haughtily. ‘We’ve managed just fine on or own.’

‘Going against direct orders while you do it, mind,’ Sakumo said, and Tsunade blushed in guilt. He held up his hands and laughed softly. ‘Hey, I’m not judging you, Princess. If anything, I agree with what you’ve done. But my being here gives you leverage against the old coots back home – Lord Hokage has given me orders to help retrieve Komako and the others while I’m here. So, really, if you think about it, you’re _my_ back-up.’

Tsunade wasn’t sure she liked being referred to as back-up, but turning down help from the famed White Fang was about as stupid as one could get. She sighed, turning away to look through the hairline crack in the cave wall at her mother. She was mouthing words Tsunade couldn’t here, and the woman and the older man with a clipboard were still surveying her every move.

‘I’ll tell you what we know,’ Tsunade said, ‘but please, we have our own plan of action that is currently unfolding as we speak. It would be better for Oro and Jiraiya if we acted now and I explained later – if I hang back, these two in the chamber might be alerted to the ruckus elsewhere and cause problems. We can’t let them out of our sight.’

‘Understood,’ Sakumo nodded, straightened his flak jacket. ‘I’ll follow you.’

‘Keep them distracted,’ Tsunade said, gearing herself to punch through the wall into the chamber, ‘and I’ll release my mother and Shion.’

‘Shion? Who’s that?’

‘A Konoha citizen like the rest of us,’ Tsunade said simply. She didn’t have the time to explain Shion’s situation, and if she did, she was worried Sakumo might think it was a bad idea. After all, the reason Shion had admitted herself to the hospital in the first place was under the guise of not being about to control her palpable genjutsu. If anything, the girl from the Kurama Clan was a liability. But Tsunade couldn’t leave her in good conscience.

‘And the enemy? Do you know of their strengths?’ Sakumo said.

‘The woman took one of Fumihiro’s Byakugan,’ Tsunade said, her teeth clenched. ‘I don’t know how much control she has over it, but she’s bound to be dangerous. As for the old man, I can’t say. But he seems more than happy to poke and probe at my mother.’

‘Are we sparing them?’

Tsunade was momentarily surprised at Sakumo’s question. She knew he had greater combat experience than her and had been out in the field for longer, but to ask so causally about taking a life sent shivers down her spine. In truth, Tsunade had never killed anyone before. She wasn’t sure if Jiraiya had, either. She knew better than to ask Orochimaru. But the fact was, she couldn’t say for certain if she was prepared to do such a thing, even if they had killed Jun and tortured her mother. Sakumo, however, viewed it almost as second nature. The life of a Shinobi is a harsh one. But it still shook Tsunade to her core.

Affectionately, Sakumo ruffed the top of her head. ‘Forget I asked, Princess. Just leave them to me. Save your mother, alright? That’s what you came here for.’

Tsunade let out a shaky breath. Yes, that is why she came. Nothing else really mattered.

*

‘Miki!’ Takahiro yelled, leaping towards her as rubble crashed from the side of the rocky chamber. He pulled her body towards him wrapped his arms around her, his back smacking against the cold stone of the floor as he skidded over it, dust pooling in the air and fragments of rock ricocheting around the space.

Coughing, he rubbed his eyes free of dust, detangling his limbs from Miki. What had just happened? It was like a bomb had gone off.

‘Takahiro?’ Miki cried, scrambling to her feet. ‘Are you okay? What was -’

She was cut off when Sakumo came hurtling towards them, his headband and tantō flashing in the fire light. Smoothly, like he was a fluid as water, the sabre gracefully cut through the air, splitting the dust like he was tearing a sheet of paper down the middle, aiming for the Byakugan piercing through the chaos.

Takahiro shoved Miki out of the way once more, and, in an act of sudden haste, threw up the clipboard with his one arm to defend himself. The sabre cut through the board like it was butter, but the suddenness of the meagre defence caused Sakumo to momentarily slow down, giving Takahiro enough time to abandon the board and roll between Sakumo’s legs. He grabbed at Miki’s arm, who was still reeling from the shock of having a sabre nearly slice down her face, and pulled her to her feet.

‘Who are you?’ Takahiro boomed, as the dust from the blast startled to settle. The particles suspended in the air around Sakumo’s figure as he walked towards them. The light from the torches ignited the dust with a yellow glow, edging his silhouette with brightness. For one horrible moment, Takahiro wildly suspected a God had appeared to enact divine retribution for all they had done. But the man was mortal. His eyes were kind, but the sabre in his hand was evidence that he would not show mercy.

‘I’m here to free those you have severely wronged,’ Sakumo said, his voice even and calm. ‘But I am prepared to do that peacefully.’

‘Peacefully? You nearly took her head off!’ Takahiro exclaimed, shakily keeping a hold of Miki’s arm – for his state of mind as well as hers.

‘And if you weren’t a threat, that would have killed her,’ Sakumo said. ‘I respect your skills. Are you a former Shinobi?’

‘What’s it to you?’ Miki snarled, freeing herself from Takahiro’s steading grip. The veins around her stolen Byakugan were popping and her fists were clenched. She was not only furious about the sudden intrusion, but she was angry their hideout had been discovered, especially since they were thinking about changing location.

‘Well,’ Sakumo said casually, ‘I certainly wouldn’t expect ordinary civilians to have such an extravagant setup, nor to possess such sharp reflexes. Surely, you must have been trained for a least a short while? Are you missing nin?’

‘It’s none of your business!’ Miki said, outraged that he was being so relaxed about the whole ordeal. To her, it seemed like he didn’t even dignify them as a passing threat. Of course, she didn’t know who she was dealing with, but she didn’t like the lack of acknowledgement.

‘Miki, calm down,’ Takahiro warned. ‘If there’s a way out of this without spilling any blood, it would be preferrable.’

‘Don’t be such a coward,’ Miki shot back, her jaw clenched. ‘I can take this guy on any day. It’s obvious why he’s here – look at his headband. It’s the same one those other Shinobi were wearing.’

‘Indeed, it is,’ Sakumo nodded. ‘In fact, you’re holding one of them right now. Tell me, who does it belong to? The teenagers you chained up and tortured? Or the woman you’re conducting experiments on as we speak?’

Miki glanced down. She had forgotten that she’d tied Fumihiro’s forehead protector to her belt. She liked to keep the headbands as trophies, as it were, from the Shinobi they’d obtained Kekkei Genkai from. In her shared room with Kenichi, they had several pinned up around their makeshift bed. Miki liked to think it made her seem macabre and powerful, but really, they were a comfort mechanism. Seeing all the people they’d dominated was a reminder that she was no longer the weak little girl she’d been long ago.

‘I’m here to take them home,’ Sakumo continued. ‘I’ll give you a chance to surrender, but know this – it is a one-time offer. After that, I cannot apologise for what would unfold.’

Miki’s blood boiled. ‘Your arrogance is staggering, stranger.’

‘It is not without reason.’

Takahiro gulped. Once he got a better look at the man in front of him, he recognised who it was. There was only one man with white hair like that, only one man who wielded the White Light Chakra Sabre – and he was not a man to be trifled with. His mind instantly went to Aki, his daughter. If anything happened to her on account of their stubbornness, he’d never forgive himself.

‘Miki,’ Takahiro whispered, ‘it would be wise for us to retreat for now, and regroup. I know who this man is – he is renowned as the White Fang of the Leaf. He is not to be challenged, believe me. Taking him on would be suicide.’

‘We can’t let him ruin what we’ve worked so hard to achieve,’ Miki hissed. ‘If he – if he takes them, others will come after us. We’ll never be safe. You know that, don’t you?’

‘We’ve never _been_ safe, Miki,’ Takahiro said. ‘The moment we defected from our Villages, we’ve never been in a stable position. The best we can do for now is to give him what he wants and start over. All is not lost. Let him take them home.’

‘Home?!’ Miki cried, spinning round to face Takahiro. ‘What right do they have to a ‘home’?! What about the one we’re trying to build? What about the ones we left behind, risking everything? These – these _people_ don’t deserve to have a home, not after everything they’ve done!’

‘Since when has this been personal?’ Takahiro said. ‘You told me you wanted the Kekkei Genkai to grow powerful, to build a better world where people were judged by their hearts, not by their capability on the battlefield. They haven’t _done_ anything. We’re the ones in the hot seat, Miki, you know that. It is wiser to retreat, regroup, and replan.’

‘What, now you’re telling me that we’re wrong, striving for all of this?’

‘But his standards, yes,’ Takahiro said, shakily pointing at Sakumo. ‘To him, we’re criminals. To him, we’ve put his comrades at great risk, even killed some of them. He doesn’t care about our plans. He…he just wants them returned.’

‘Oh, so you’re naïve enough to think he’ll just leave us alone once he’s got what he wants?’ Miki scoffed. ‘I thought you were meant to be intelligent, Takahiro. No wonder the Mizukage cast you out if that’s the best plan you can come up with.’

Takahiro looked as though Miki had just slapped him. It was no secret the Mizukage had abandoned him, one of his advisors, after he suffered the injury that cost him his arm. But to use such a hurtful and sensitive subject as ammunition was far from the Miki he had grown to view as his own.

‘I will take Komako Senju, Fumihiro Hyuga, Hiromichi Uchiha, and the girl Shion from this place,’ Sakumo said. ‘I cannot guarantee we will not pursue you for the crimes you’ve committed against our Shinobi, but my only orders were to retrieve those four Shinobi and return them safely to Konoha. While I’d like nothing more than to teach you a lesson, the time is not right. Give me what I want, and I’ll push no further.’

‘See?’ Miki said, not noticing or even caring about the low blow she’d dealt Takahiro. ‘He just said people might come after us! It’s better to end it all, here and now, crushing him and protecting the Kekkei Genkai! When do you think we’ll get the chance to study the genes of a Senju again, huh? You can’t give up on me now, Takahiro!’

‘Now might be the time to tell you that I’m not alone,’ Sakumo said cautiously, wanting to avoid a fight. ‘I have two other skilled Shinobi cornering those you might consider to be the most powerful in your group, and believe me, they’re not the type to leave without getting what they came for.’

Takahiro’s head jerked up. ‘I swear, if you’ve so much as laid a finger on my daughter, I -’

‘– we will not hurt anyone unless absolutely necessary,’ Sakumo said coolly. ‘The decision is yours to make, here and now. Let us go in peace, and we’ll leave you. We are not seeking revenge.’

Miki glanced out of the corner of her eye, and saw Tsunade breaking Komako free of the chains. But she made no move to stop her. Her face twisted into a cold, sinister smile. ‘Not seeking revenge? We’ll see about that.’

Sakumo frowned at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

Miki let out a short laugh. Takahiro winced. It was very different to the laughter she used to share with him. This one was weighted, cruel and humourless. It was jarring to hear such a noise come from her.

‘She’s been under a heavy dosage of Fear-cap mushrooms for several days,’ Miki said, smirking. ‘And according to Takahiro’s predictions, her ‘emotional circuits’, as he put it, will be fried. Her mind might be compromised. She could already be lost. You sure you’re not going to want revenge for that?’

Sakumo’s knuckles turned white around the handle of his sabre. ‘You take pride in that? In torturing someone to the point where they can’t even remember their own mind? In ripping out the eyes of mere children, while forcing the other to watch? What kind of person derives contentment from such things?’

‘The kind who has lost everything,’ Miki muttered. ‘And it is not contentment. It is necessary.’

‘For what?’ Sakumo said, gesturing with his sabre. ‘What could possibly be worth all of this? This bloodshed, this torture, this…I don’t even know what to call it. I don’t know that much about you, the so-called Inoshishi. But I do know that nothing could make this ‘necessary’.’

‘Then you don’t understand what it means to be weak,’ Miki said.

As Sakumo tried to decipher the twisted philosophies Miki was operating under, Tsunade had successfully detached her mother from the chains and the drip constantly feeding the Fear-cap component into her veins. Komako, barely conscious, collapsed into Tsunade’s arms, her form slumped against her.

‘Mother,’ Tsunade whispered, relief fluttering in her heart. She was alive. She was weak, pale, thin and bloodied, but she was alive. Carefully, keeping one eye on Sakumo and the other on her mother, Tsunade heaved her mother over to the hole she had made in the wall.

Komako stirred as Tsunade squeezed through the gap, before resting her gently against the wall inside the crevice. It was a tight squeeze and dipped in darkness, but it was better than leaving her lying in the middle of the chamber, especially when Tsunade had a sneaking suspicion a fight would break out.

‘Wha…what?’ Komako whispered, her eyes rolling back to expose the whites.

‘It’s alright, Mother,’ Tsunade murmured. ‘You’re safe now. I’ve got you.’

Immediately, Tsunade began to work on sealing up the gaping wounds dotted over Komako’s trembling body. Scoops of flesh had been removed, presumably for samples, and she was bleeding heavily. Tsunade gritted her teeth. She was privately relieved Sakumo had turned up, because his level-headedness would likely balance out the fire that was raging in her heart.

Suddenly, Komako regained full consciousness, and jerked away from Tsunade.

‘Get off me! Let me go!’ Komako cried, pushing her daughter away from her.

Tsunade was startled at the reaction, but put it down to the shock of suddenly being freed after days of heavy torture. She swallowed thickly and reached out to her. ‘It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Tsuna. I’ve come to rescue you, that’s all. I’m sorry it took so long.’

Komako stared at her, her eyes wild and full of tears. Her lips were cracked and a trail of dried blood had smeared at the corner. ‘Are…are you one of them?’

Tsunade’s brow furrowed. ‘No, of course not. Look at me. It’s _me_. I’m not with them.’ 

Komako merely blinked at her. ‘I…where am I?’

‘You’re in the Land of Mountains,’ Tsunade said, leaning forward to resume the healing process. ‘Don’t you remember? You came on a mission with Jun and -’

‘– get away from me!’ Komako cried, seeing the pale blue of Tsunade’s medical ninjutsu as a threat. After all, all she had seen of late was Takahiro’s hand swathed in the same glow as he tore chunks from her body.

Tsunade stared at her, immediately backing away. She had never seen her mother so terrified before. When she was a child, she wondered if her mother ever felt fear at all. She always seemed so strong. The woman in front of her, shaking and bloodied, looking at Tsunade with wide, frantic eyes, seemed so far from the person she knew, Tsunade wondered if it was really her at all.

‘Mum, it’s me,’ Tsunade said, her voice softer. ‘It’s going to be alright. I’ll take you home, alright? To Grandmother. To Nawaki. Back home. I just need to stop the bleeding, that’s all. I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘H-hurt me?’ Komako choked. ‘All they’ve done is hurt me! They…all the things I saw…’

‘I know,’ Tsunade murmured, ‘but that’s all over now. I’ll take you back home to the Mansion, and you’ll get better. You’ll be safe there, I promise.’

‘Promise? How could you possibly promise such a thing?’ Komako whispered, shaking from the cold and the shock. ‘Why should I even trust you?’

Tsunade stared at her. ‘What do you mean, why should you trust me? Don’t you know who I am?’

Komako shook her head frantically, pressing herself against the wall to get as far away from Tsunade as she could in her weakened state. Her red hair was a tangled mess against her forehead, and tears were streaming from the brown eyes Tsunade had inherited.

Tsunade let out a long, shaky breath. Reasonably, she knew that the trauma of what her mother had gone through was likely clouding her judgement, but having to look into her eyes and see no spark of recognition or fondness hurt more than a punch to the gut. To be honest, she would have taken it in the place of having to deal with what was unfolding. She swallowed, gripping her hands together.

‘Mother,’ she said quietly. ‘I know – I know you’ve been through a lot. I can’t even imagine it. And you might not know it right now, but I’m a friend and I’m going to help you. I’m your daughter.’

At the word ‘daughter’, Komako’s eyes widened in horror. ‘No, you can’t be. It’s a trick. It’s just another trick! I saw…I saw my daughter die, over and over again, and I – you can’t be her! She’s gone!’

Tsunade swallowed a lump in her throat as she realised what Komako had been seeing under the influence of the Fear-caps: the deaths of her children. She was displaying the same signs as Jiraiya when he had accidentally ingested them – erratic behaviour, panic, fear, all of it. She presumed the Fear-caps would still be in Komako’s system, and briefly thought of whacking her over the head like she’d done with Jiraiya. After all, it had done the trick. But Komako was so fragile and terrified, it would be too cruel to do such a thing. Instead, Tsunade went for the next best option: cautiousness.

‘Mother, look at me,’ Tsunade said, daring to edge closer. ‘I know you think I’m dead, but I’m here. I’m right here. Look, see? My necklace. Do you recognise it? It was my Grandfather’s, remember? I wear it always to remember him. Though Nawaki has his eye on it, it must be said. Surely, you can remember that? It’s been with us all my life.’

Komako just kept shaking her head, over and over again. Tsunade bit her lip. Did she truly not recognise her?

‘Imposter,’ Komako whispered. ‘You’re an imposter. You’re just another trick. They’re trying to trick me again.’

‘No, Mother -’

‘– don’t call me that!’ Komako cried, clutching her head. ‘Don’t say that word! I failed to protect them! I – they – they’re both dead! And Jun, my precious Jun, he – he -’ Komako broke off, her breathing irregular and fractured. Tsunade tried to reach out to her, to gently push her lank red hair from her eyes, but Komako slapped her wrist away.

‘I told you to get away!’ she cried.

‘Mother…’ Tsunade whispered, feeling the threat of tears boil behind her eyes. She blinked them away and composed herself. She had a mission to complete. So long as her mother stayed put, she could get to Shion and she could protect them both. But seeing her mother, as she began to break down and weep at the images instilled in her mind from the Fear-caps, made Tsunade sick to her stomach. It’s impossible to relay the feeling of not being seen by one you hold dear. And from Tsunade’s perspective, Komako might as well have been looking at a stranger.

On hearing Komako’s cries of anguish, Sakumo winced. He admired Komako a great deal – she was revered as a Jonin and well-loved as a person – and hearing her shout out in such inexplicable fear was hard for him to endure. He gritted his teeth as Miki, who was still stood in front of him, smirked.

‘See?’ she said. ‘How could you not seek revenge now, after hearing such a tormented cry from one of your own, lest you have a heart of steel?’

Sakumo flared his nostrils, his brain going into overdrive in an attempt to keep himself calm. ‘I don’t understand you, Miki of the Inoshishi. Do you want me to fight you?’

‘That’s exactly what I want,’ Miki snarled. ‘I’ve been itching for an excuse to further test the limits of my newfound power.’

Sakumo pushed his white hair from his eyes and adjusted him grip on his sabre, the handle slick with sweat. Despite his years of combat, he was still only 22. Facing down an enemy, he suspected, would never be easy. But he had a mission to complete. And he would show no mercy.

Before Miki could even register his movements with her stolen Byakugan, Sakumo was in front of her in an instant. He planted a fist into her stomach and she lurched forward, buckling from the sudden impact and sharp pain dissipating throughout her gut. Were it not for Takahiro, who was turning out to be more formidable than any of them expected – Miki included – grabbing the back of her Boar-adorned shirt and yanking her out of the way, Sakumo would have walloped the handle of his sabre on the back of her skull.

‘Heh,’ Miki gasped, clutching her stomach, ‘he’s fast.’

‘I told you,’ Takahiro panted. ‘This man is the White Fang of the Leaf. He is famous for his skills across the world. We would be foolish to engage with him!’

‘He started it by barging in here,’ Miki huffed.

‘For goodness sake!’ Takahiro said. ‘Don’t be so immature!’

‘And, strictly speaking, you started it by kidnapping Shinobi of Konoha,’ Sakumo said, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘So it looks like I’ll be the one to finish it,’ Miki spat. Her eye flashing white, she shot towards Sakumo with her palm facing outwards, in an eerily similar manner to the Hyuga’s Gentle Fist. Sakumo swiftly side-stepped and caught her wrist, throwing her backwards. With a yelp, Miki stumbled into Takahiro, who held her upright.

‘He’s just playing with us,’ Miki snarled.

‘Then stop offering child’s play,’ Sakumo said simply.

Flushing red with anger, Miki ran towards him again, this time with Takahiro reluctantly following suit. He was clutching a trench knife in his one hand, clipboard abandoned long ago, and he was channelling chakra down the blade in a similar fashion to how Asuma Sarutobi would wield his blades years later. Sakumo kept his guard up, awaiting the strike with his sabre.

Meanwhile, Tsunade was busy trying to wake Shion, the girl from the Kurama Clan. She was chained up and attached to a drip like Komako had been, but she seemed less injured. Tsunade figured that wood release would have been more of a priority compared to the genjutsu-style genes of the Kurama Clan, but Shion was still in a shaky state. At least her power would be quelled for the time being.

‘Shion,’ Tsunade said, doing her best to ignore the groans of the fellow prisoners. They were from other Nations, and Tsunade didn’t really know how to proceed with them. Given their history, she was reluctant to free them. She decided she’d wait for orders from Sakumo or Orochimaru (not really knowing who was in charge at that point) and focus on those who mattered: namely, her mother, Fumihiro, Hiromichi, and Shion.

Shion stirred. She had long, glossy black hair that had seen better days, given her lengthy imprisonment, and when her eyes blinked in surprise at Tsunade, they were an olive green. Whenever she lost control of her terrible power, they glowed red. Tsunade hoped she’d never have to see it.

‘Wait…Tsunade?’ Shion whispered. ‘Is that really you?’

Relieved that she recognised her, Tsunade nodded. ‘We don’t have a lot of time. We’ve split up to cover more ground so we need to act quickly – here, can you walk? Lean on me.’

‘I – I hardly remember what happened,’ Shion murmured, as Tsunade supported her weight. ‘I can remember the hospital…and taking my medication from Biwako…but after that, nothing. I must have blacked out.’

‘Do you have any idea how long you’ve been here?’ Tsunade asked, hauling her across the floor to regroup with Komako.

‘No,’ Shion said, her voice faint. ‘I…I can’t remember anything.’

‘It’s alright. You don’t have to remember,’ Tsunade said. ‘Just do as I say, and we’ll bring you home, okay?’

On seeing Tsunade free Shion, Miki growled in anger. She made to rush towards them, but Sakumo sliced his sabre across her path. There was a great clang of metal as his blade connected with Takahiro’s, and he grunted – the chakra Takahiro was manipulating down the trench knife had reinvigorated him with strength, and he was pushing Sakumo back with brunt force alone.

‘Say, you’re pretty good,’ Sakumo said, sweat beading on his forward as he and Takahiro battled for dominance.

‘I’ve been around a lot longer than you, young man,’ Takahiro panted. ‘One picks certain things up, over the years.’

‘Where did you serve?’ Sakumo said, chatting away as if he wasn’t in a battle to the death.

‘Kirigakure,’ Takahiro said, gritting his teeth from the effort of Sakumo’s pressure. ‘I served directly under the late Mizukage, as it happens. And – believe me – you get to know a trick – or two – when you serve under a man like him!’

Takahiro skidded backwards, catching the handle of his knife between his teeth. He formed half a hand sign, and, as if knowing what he as going to do next, Miki shot towards him, her hand connecting with his. In total unison, she helped him weave a series of hand signs – _ox, snake, ram_ – and with a gentle puff, the chamber erupted in water vapor.

‘The Hidden Mist Jutsu, eh?’ Sakumo muttered, edging around the space. ‘Makes sense. Not an easy jutsu to perform, and to do it with one hand…you’re not as ordinary as you like to make out, are you, old man?’

‘Perhaps so,’ Takahiro said. ‘But I’m not the one you should be worried about.’

Sakumo heard movement behind him and he ducked just in time, Miki’s fist flying towards his head. Naturally, she could see through the mist using her Byakugan, but what she didn’t bargain on was Sakumo’s refined sense of hearing.

_What?_ she thought. _How could he possibly know I was here? I used chakra to mask the sound of my footsteps, and I even regulated my breathing. So how…?_

Sakumo smiled to himself, as if knowing what she was thinking. ‘You both have excellent team work skills, I have to say. But unfortunately, I always have a back-up plan.’

Miki glanced down and stared in shock at what she saw. There was a tiny hook, a link one from of the chains Tsunade had broken when she was freeing Komako, snagged in her clothing. As she moved, it clanged quietly against the metal of the forehead protector tied on her belt, the one she had taken off Fumihiro. While the noise was barely noticeable, for Sakumo, the slight tinkling of metal on metal was enough to alert him to her presence.

‘Now do you see?’ Sakumo said, swinging round and catching her by the scruff of her collar with one hand, sabre in the other. ‘I’m not the sort of man you should take on in battle. Especially when the safety of my comrades is at stake.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, an apology! I've been MIA for a few weeks. I had a lot of things happening at once, both professionally and personally, but I'm back on track now and ready to carry on with this fic. Going to update once a fortnight, if not more frequently, and I really hope people are still interested, despite my absence! Thank you to my loyal readers - it is so lovely to read your comments ❤  
> Secondly, a general note of pride. I'm happy with this chapter (it's been hard juggling multiple perspectives) but I'm really excited to write some cool stuff with Sakumo! At least, I think it's cool. I sure hope it is...  
> Thirdly, since it's been a while, it might be an idea to re-read the last chapter as a refresher since I have a lot of OCs running about and I don't want that to lead to any confusion.  
> Next chapter (which has already been written so I keep to a decent schedule) is action and dialogue heavy. Oh, and sad. Because of course it is.  
> Please let me know if you're interested in following this fic! And happy, happy reading to you all!


	19. A Clash of Concepts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battles begin, and both Jiraiya and Orochimaru are forced to consider their personal beliefs.  
> *WARNING* For heavy violence  
> ALSO quick question - more regular updates and shorter chapters, or once every fortnight and long chapters, like this one (10,000 words oop)? Lemme know what you'd prefer! 😊

Chapter 19 – A Clash of Concepts

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

Jiraiya spat blood, feeling his jaw swell up from the impact of Kenichi’s steel fist. He was rapidly proving to be a tougher adversary that Jiriaya first guessed, given his sluggish reaction to the sneak attack. He was fast and his mastery of the stolen steel release was no joke. Hiromichi was still chained up, his Sharingan forcibly activated, and Fumihiro was out for the count. He was on his own.

‘Still able to keep up, kid?’ Kenichi smirked, his false silver tooth flashing in the light. Both his arms had morphed into rock hard steel and he was deflecting Jiraiya’s attacks with ease, given his enhanced strength.

‘Tch,’ Jiraiya muttered. ‘Of course I am. This is nothing.’

‘Then I’d best up the level then, shouldn’t I?’

Kenichi shot towards him, sharp, metal claws protruding from both of his steel-covered arms. Jiraiya hurled a cascade of shuriken towards his attacker, but Kenichi merely threw his arms up in front of his face to protect himself. The shuriken sparked as they glanced off his arms and clinked to the floor. Kenichi threw his fist forwards and Jiraiya caught in his palm, wincing at the impact. Heaving air into his lungs, Jiraiya prepared one of the many jutsu he had acquired under Lord Fukasaku’s training: _Toad Oil Bullet._

Kenichi was forced to close his eyes to save them getting splattered with the oil, and it covered him completely. Clenching his teeth, his elbow swung up and caught Jiraiya against the side of his head. Jiraiya jerked to the right, his ear ringing from the impact, and he fell against the wall with a crack. He felt blood dripping from his ear and he winced, but he didn’t have time to worry about the damage. Kenichi was already in front of him, his fists pounding towards Jiraiya’s face. Jiraiya swerved left and right, sweating as the impact from Kenichi’s attack left small craters in the stone of the wall. He was briefly worried that the ceiling would cave in.

_This is nothing like the training I did with the toads_ , he thought to himself, not even knowing how to defend himself entirely. _I haven’t fully mastered senjutsu yet, and there’s no time to prepare myself now. What have I been doing all these years if I can’t even handle one guy?_

Jiraiya watched like it was slow motion as Kenichi fired hit after hit at his face. He noticed there was just the slightest hesitation in the left hook, and guessed it wasn’t his dominant hand. He was also confident that Kenichi possessed no great jutsu on his own, only the Kekkei Genkai he had stolen. He was an average Shinobi with an average skillset. _So why the hell am I struggling?_

‘Ha!’ Kenichi roared, a blade extending from the top of his wrist. It was like the bone under his skin had extended out as a sharp, metal blade. He struck towards Jiraiya, who ducked just in time. The metal sparked against the stone wall and Jiraiya yelped, finding himself tangling about Kenichi’s feet. He cursed his height and large stature, wishing he could just dart between his legs and come out on the other side, but there was no such luck. He was clumsy, inelegant, lacking in technique and execution. _Nothing like Orochimaru._

He felt a hand on the back of his neck as Kenichi hauled him to his feet with his metal-enhanced strength. He slammed Jiraiya against the wall again, and his head smacked painfully against a stone protrusion. Jiraiya felt blood trickle down the back of his neck and sparks danced before his eyes. Kenichi’s cold, metal hand was squeezing around his neck. He tried to swallow, feeling as though his Adam’s apple was being crunched up his throat, unable to get air into his lungs.

‘Should I strangle you to death or break your neck?’ Kenichi said, his voice grating like gravel. ‘Or should I keep you alive and see if old Takahiro can draw out some talent, hm? Though there’s little point in that. Clearly you’re lacking.’

Jiraiya gritted his teeth and fought against his grip. He plunged a kunai weakly upwards, but it glanced pathetically off Kenichi’s hardened skin and bounced off towards where Fumihiro was lying in a shivering heap.

_Fumihiro…I have to save him…_

Kenichi had a hard look in his eyes. They were as cold and as silver as the metal adoring his arms, steely and full of vindication. He would take no real pleasure in killing the teenager in his grip, but he had a goal. To reach it, one must sometimes take unfortunate, unsavoury steps. He would forget it all in Miki’s arms. She would soothe him, stroke the silver streaks in his hair. She would hold him and promise him that it was worth it, all the things they had done, all the pain they had caused. There were nights he didn’t sleep so well. There were days when he had his doubts, ones he would share in cautious whispers with Takahiro. But all Miki had to do was hold his hand, and the blood-stained steel would transform into human flesh again. Her hands were always warm. His were always cold. It didn’t matter.

Jiraiya’s hands fell from where they were gripped around Kenichi’s steel wrist. He felt the energy slowly filtering from his body, like he was steadily deflating. _Don’t tell me those years were worth nothing? All that training, for this?_

He could smell something strong in his nostrils, and even when his eyes started to droop, there was that strong, penetrative smell he knew well. _Oil._ It was the toad oil, the glutinous substance he had strayed all over Kenichi in panic. It was the first jutsu Fukasaku had taught him, and he used to hate it. It left a weird smell in his mouth. But in that moment, he had never been more grateful for the geezer toad’s rigorous training.

Feeling like his limbs had turned to stone, Jiraiya shakily brought his hands together away from Kenichi’s gaze. The man didn’t seem to notice – he was too busy watching the life drain from his victim’s body, as he had so many times before. The man he had taken steel release from had died in a similar way; slowly, uncomfortably, and under observation. This was no different. Fighting with everything he had to keep his eyes open, Jiraiya began to weave hand signs. _Serpent…Ram…Monkey…Boar…Horse…Tiger…_

‘F-fire style,’ Jiraiya choked. ‘Dragon Fire Technique!’

Orange flame burst from his mouth. The Dragon Fire Technique is known for its precision and pinpoint accuracy, perhaps more than its famous counterpart, the Fireball Jutsu, and Jiraiya had chosen well. For its stream and meticulousness, it was perfect for what he had in mind, and consumed less chakra. Kenichi had no choice but to jump backwards as the flames caught the vapours cast from the toad oil, igniting the air around him. Flames licked against his clothes and flesh and he cried out in pain. Jiriaya took the moment of confusion to catch his breath, massaging his throat. He panted, feeling hot blood on his neck and down the side of his face. Tsunade would have her work cut out for her healing wise if he wasn’t more careful.

‘You little brat,’ Kenichi growled, throwing off his shirt and stamping at the flames. The fire had reddened the skin of his neck and scorched his face, but there was no damage done to the steel areas of his body. In fact, with his shirt in frazzled tatters at his feet, Jiraiya could see that his whole torso was steadily turning to steel. Like ice furring up a window pane, the silver metal crept over his chest, down his stomach, and settled at his waist. He couldn’t see his legs, but if he had to guess, Jiraiya assumed they too were coated in the same steel. The only thing Kenichi couldn’t transform, it appeared, was his head and neck.

‘Maybe you lack less than I thought,’ Kenichi said, cracking his neck. ‘But this is my final form. Fire won’t work, so I hope, for the sake of yourself and your so-called comrades, that you have some other tricks up your sleeve.’

Jiraiya clenched his fists together. What could he do against a guy who could literally turn himself into metal? He was virtually indestructible. Begrudgingly, his mind went to _what would Orochimaru do_? Honestly, Jiraiya didn’t have the answer. He hadn’t worked with Orochimaru properly ever since he started his fast-track to becoming a fully-fledged ANBU member, and his year away at Myoboku had only increased the uncertainty. All he knew was that the once-in-a-generation genius would figure out something – a counterattack, a way forward, or even a way out. Orochimaru had so many more tools at his disposal, an infinite number of weapons, and an alarmingly impressive choice of Jutsu. At 15, the boy was already more impressive than most of the Shinobi in Konoha. But he? Jiraiya was still a virtual unknown. He could feel that he’d gotten stronger, but even then, he was still staring at Orochimaru’s back.

Even Tsunade was starting to pull ahead of him – though, really, he wondered if he’d ever walked next to her in the first place. He was always chasing after her. After both of them. If he had Orochimaru’s versatility, he could find a way to come out on top. If he had Tsunade’s brute strength, he could smash through that steel body without breaking a sweat. If he had Hiromichi’s Sharingan, he could see Kenichi’s next move. If he had Fumihiro’s Byakugan, he would have a greater scope of vision.

For the first time since he started his renegade mission, Jiraiya could see the enemy’s point of view. It was frustrating to be weaker than others. It’s the complete opposite of what people strive for – being weaker than the rest brings with it an intense feeling of insecurity, inadequacy, and ineptitude that is borderline impossible to shake. Jiraiya had done nothing but work hard, but compared to those who are geniuses, or those who have inherited power, he was _still_ nothing. Was this how his life was going to be? Constantly sprinting, just so he could catch a glimpse of those ahead of him? And what of the Prophecy? What right did he have to pick the so-called saviour of the Shinobi World, if he himself cannot even defeat one man? What was the point?

‘JIRAIYA!’

Jiraiya twitched his head up and saw Kenichi flying towards him again, two long, sword-like blades protruding from both of his wrists. He was gleaming in the light, his footfall heavy as it smashed against the ground. Jiraiya’s eyes went to where the voice had bellowed from, his head hurting and his bruised ear pulsing. It was Hiromichi. He was straining against his chains, blood seeping from his red eyes and mixing with the tears running own his face from all he had had to endure.

‘Why the hell are you looking down?!’ he screamed, his voice echoing about the chamber. ‘Your enemy is right in front of you! Don’t look away when there’s still something you can do!’

Jiraiya swung around just as Kenichi came shooting at him, the blade just gliding across his cheekbone. If he hadn’t dodged, it would have taken his head clean off. Kenichi didn’t let that stop him, swinging his other sword up to try and catch Jiraiya under the chin. Wildly, with all his kunai spent, Jiraiya brought his head down with all the force he could muster. His forehead protector clanged loudly against the edge of the blade, and Jiraiya yelled out, the sheer strength from his blow forcing Kenichi’s blow off course. As he stumbled, Jiraiya, feeling blood seep down his face from the sudden impact, brought his fist down against the back of Kenichi’s skull. If the man couldn’t cover his whole body in steel, he had weak point – and those were the points Jiraiya would aim for.

‘Jiraiya!’ Hiromichi yelled, Sharingan flashing. ‘I can see him! I can see!’

‘Then help me!’ Jiraiya spluttered, as Kenichi regained his footing and made a swing for him.

‘His movements are sluggish and predictable!’ Hiromichi shouted. ‘That extra weight from the steel has slowed him down compared to before, but that also means his hits are going to -’

‘ – hurt more!’ Jiraiya groaned, as Kenichi’s fist connected with his jaw. The blow was so powerful that Jiraiya was knocked off his feet.

‘How’s that for sluggish?’ Kenichi snapped, glaring at Hiromichi.

‘Eugh,’ Jiraiya groaned, cracking his jaw back into place.

‘Jiriaya, listen to me,’ Hiromichi said desperately, as he watched Jiraiya scramble to his feet. ‘This guy is not overly skilled. You’re feeling overwhelmed because you can only damage his neck and face, and that’s a much smaller target that you’re used to. But in terms of Taijutsu, he’s nothing special – I’ve been watching his movements, and he’s Chuunin level at best. Focus, and you’ll be able to take him down when he leaves his weak points exposed.’

‘Easier said than done!’ Jiraiya said. ‘The guy is literally as tough as steel! Even that hit to the back of his head didn’t seem to perturb him!’

‘Jiriaya, have you forgotten who your teammate is?!’ Hiromichi yelled, as Kenichi came barrelling towards him again, leaving craters in the ground with every step. ‘Princess Tsunade is the best at Taijutsu in our class! If you can defend yourself against her in training, you can stop this guy in his tracks!’

Suddenly, the man in front of him transformed. Jiraiya’s eyes widened as the cave chamber around him disappeared, and courtyard in the Senju wing of the Hokage Mansion materialised all around him. The fist flying towards his face was not coated in steel, but smaller, though just as lethal. And the face twisted in anger was not that of Kenichi, but Tsunade. He was 13 again. Days after Orochimaru had made Jonin, to help him out of his slump, Tsunade had invited him round to train with her. She did not pull her punches, and Jiraiya had returned home bruised and bloodied. But, in the weeks that followed, he found himself more and more able to receive and even return her blows. The path to Jonin was a long one, and Tsunade was determined to help him get there.

Her fist, Kenichi’s fist, flew towards him. But this time, Jiraiya could see it. He swiftly dodged under it, and, in one fluid movement, brought the back of his hand up against the underside of the offending arm. Tsunade had been stunned, the day he threw off her attack. He could see her face now, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open slightly. Her hair had fallen over her face and she was sweating from the effort, but there was no denying the joyous light in her eyes. Jiraiya knew she’d never admit it, but he did well, she glowed.

‘ _Keep going like this, and you might be able to see Orochimaru on the horizon.’_

Back in the cave, in reality, Jiraiya took the opportunity Tsunade had taught him. With one hand forcing Kenichi’s fist in the air, he caught the other by the wrist, the point of one of the swords just shy of piercing him in the ribs. Grunting from the effort, Jiraiya and Kenichi fought for dominance, their muscles straining and feet pushing into the ground.

‘ _You can’t keep this up forever, Jiraiya! Sooner or later, one of us will cave, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be me!’_

Tsunade was back before his eyes, her teeth gritted with effort. He figured that he’d have the upper-hand, being the larger of the two, but whatever Tsunade lacked in stature, she made up for in monster strength. Her fingers dug into his knuckles painfully. Kenichi’s were doing the same thing. Cold and hardened from metal, Jiraiya felt slightly queasy as he heard his flesh squish and crunch beneath Kenichi’s grip, but he didn’t let go.

_‘If you can’t beat me in strength, use your head!’_

Jiraiya remembered, in vivid detail, what he did next. Locked in the same pose as he was with Kenichi, both hands locked in a vicious battle of power, Jiraiya had hurtled his head towards Tsunade’s to whack against it. She had seen it coming a mile off, and, outraged, pushed herself away from him.

‘ _What the hell was that?!’_

_‘You said to use my head!’_

_‘Not literally, dumbass!’_

‘Times never really change,’ Jiraiya grinned. Kenichi frowned at him, wondering why he had spoken, before his eyes went wide and Jiraiya’s head hurtled towards his own. With an intense yell, Jiraiya once again used his forehead protector as a trusty alley. The Konoha symbol slammed against Kenichi’s skull, and the man staggered backwards, his grip finally faltering from Jiraiya’s hands. As he stumbled, blinded by the blow, Jiraiya adjusted his headband, feeling the blood slide under the metal plate. Who would have thought that such a small piece of kit would end up aiding him?

‘You still think I’m lacking?’ Jiraiya panted, as a large welt appeared on Kenichi’s forehead. ‘I don’t need Kekkei Genkai or natural born power to do the fighting for me!’

‘I think you’re naïve,’ Kenichi spat, rubbing his forehead. ‘I think that, when I was your age, I believed the same thing. I believed that hard work could overcome natural born talent. But let me save you the anguish, kid – everything you do with never be worth anything if there is someone who was born for it. People are made differently for a reason. It’s unfair, it’s frustrating, but years of training always fails in the face of sheer talent. The only thing my friends and I are doing is levelling the playing field. We stick up for the little guy. We’re going to bring balance back to this Shinobi world.’

‘If this ‘balance’ requires the sacrifice of countless talented Shinobi, then I want no part in it!’ Jiraiya shouted. ‘A life for a life is meaningless! Nothing will change! All you’re doing here is transferring power from one host to another!’

‘We’re giving power to those who deserve it!’ Kenichi shouted. ‘Power in the hands of the arrogant is bitter and stale, but in the hands of someone who craves it, it becomes a most cherished weapon! A weapon that would be used for good!’

‘What good is _this_?’ Jiraiya cried, gesturing around the room. ‘It doesn’t matter who wields the power – so long as its in someone’s hands, the choice about how to use it is, too! So what if some people have Kekkei Genkai and some don’t? You can’t assume that every prodigy is going to waste their power!’

‘Who are you to talk of prodigies?’ Kenichi snarled. ‘You know nothing of their type, nor of the pain I have suffered in the name of such people.’

‘I can talk of prodigies because I know one well,’ Jiraiya said, Orochimaru’s back flashing before his eyes. ‘And you wanna know something?’

‘What?’ Kenichi spat.

Jiraiya sighed, and bowed his head. When he looked up again, his eyes were alight. ‘He is working every day, with the same vigour and intensity as me, to realise his dream. And his dream is a simple one – he wants to learn jutsu, enough to protect the people he holds dear. Not so different from you, don’t you think? While you want to go further and change the world, at the heart of it, your striving for power is for the same reasons as his.’

‘We are nothing alike,’ Kenichi growled. ‘The people in this cave fall into two categories; you and I, and the Inoshishi, are the weak. The prisoners, and this friend of yours, are the strong.’

‘You still think I’m weak?’

‘You are weak because you are lacking in the natural born power that makes people strong!’ Kenichi shouted.

‘Then you know nothing of power!’ Jiriaya yelled. ‘Because I lack nothing! Power isn’t about the amount of techniques you possess, or the Kekkei Genkai that some people are gifted at birth! True power – the true measure of a person – comes from something _anyone_ can acquire. And that’s…that’s the guts to never give up!’

Kenichi stared at Jiraiya, his fists clenched. For a moment, he swore the boy in front of his was his younger self, chest puffed out, eyes bright with passion and determination, his heart on his sleeve. Miki was next to him, her hand in his. Before it all happened. Before they were just cannon fodder in a war they didn’t want to fight. Before the power divide between the weak and the strong was so painfully obvious. Back when they were young.

‘ _Miki, you and I will be just fine. Because we have something that even average folk like us can get – the guts to never give up.’_

‘I’m not going to stand here and say the world is fair,’ Jiraiya murmured, his eyes on the floor. ‘And honestly, I understand how you feel. I deal with frustration every single day. There was a time when I even thought about quitting, because I couldn’t see the point in trying when _he_ could do it so effortlessly. But he…that prodigy…he makes me want to be a better person. And it’s because of him that I can stand here, with this headband tied around my forehead, and strive for greatness. Because one day, I will walk next to him. I will fight with what I’ve been given, and find new ways to do so. Power is not stagnant. It is ever-changing. What is strong today might not be strong tomorrow. If you think that seizing power in this way will make you truly strong, then you’ve already lost.’

Hiromichi, who had been watching the whole exchange silently, felt something bloom in the centre of his chest. _Wow…who is this guy_? he thought. _He’s…he’s making me want to root for him. And what he just said…it was like something a Hokage would say…_

‘I…’ Kenichi trailed off. Had they been wrong, all this time? Had he and Miki made a mistake?

No. The boy in front of him didn’t understand what the real world was like. He was full to the brim with hope that had not been blinded by the realities of war and bloodshed and injustice. It was easy for him to stand there and preach about strength when he knew nothing of true weakness. Being bottom of the class was laughable in comparison to lacking the strength to prevent the deaths of one’s comrades. It paled against the backdrop of the war he and Miki were sent into. They hadn’t even been told what they were fighting for, not really. All that was required of them was to fight and die for those in power. The weak sacrificed to protect the strong.

Kenichi shook his head. ‘You…really don’t understand how the world works, kid.’

He geared himself up to fight again, his fingers twisting into small daggers, but Jiraiya was more than ready for him – though he didn’t seem to want to fight. He crouched to the ground, gritting his teeth with the effort. He had successfully used Needle Jizō, the technique to harden and extend his hair for defence or attack, just once, but if there was ever a time for it to work, it was now.

‘Come back when you’ve seen the ugly truth of the world, and then you’ll understand where I’m coming from!’ Kenichi cried, swiping his hand through the air. It bounced off the hardened trail of hair Jiraiya had extended down his back, and he had turned to accommodate the sudden hit.

‘I’ll never become like you.’

At once, Jiraiya employed Needle Hell. A barrage of hardened hair needles fired towards Kenichi. Unable to dodge them all, Kenichi threw his arms up in front of his face to protect his vulnerable flesh, but that was the least of his worries. As the overwhelming power from the needles battered against the walls and the ceiling, the room was starting to crumble.

‘Jiraiya!’ Hiromichi shouted. ‘Stop! It’s going to collapse!’

Jiraiya, who was feeling the beginnings of chakra depletion from his impressive attack, emerged from under his hair. His eyes widened as he saw the huge crack extending along the ceiling from the power of the needles, and he cursed. He hadn’t meant it to go _that_ far.

‘Get Fumihiro and get out of here!’ Hiromichi demanded.

Panicking slightly, Jiraiya grabbed Fumihiro and dragged him to safety out of the chamber, before running back to release Hiromichi from the chains. As rocks started to plummet against the ground, Jiraiya supported Hiromichi as they wobblily made their way from the chamber.

‘It still isn’t safe,’ Hiromichi said, wincing. ‘We need to get further away. Where are the others? Hey – wait! Jiraiya, where the hell are you going!’

Hiromichi made to grab Jiraiya’s arm as he turned to head back into the collapsing chamber, but he wasn’t quick enough – the fatigue and trauma from being chained up for so long had really taken a toll on his weakened body.

‘We can’t just leave him!’ Jiraiya said, running back into the chamber.

‘Jiraiya! Don’t! It isn’t safe!’

But Jiraiya didn’t listen. He darted back into the chamber, coughing from the dust that was rising from the rocks. Most of the chamber had already collapsed, but a large portion of the ceiling had yet to follow suit. And right under the buckling ceiling was Kenichi. His leg, which had turned back into perishable flesh, had been crushed under a huge bolder. He was groaning, his arms no longer covered in steel either, and he was working desperately to roll the boulder off himself.

Jiraiya was by his side in an instant, pushing against the boulder with all his might.

‘Just stay still, alright?!’ he said frantically. ‘We’ll get you out of this, one way or another!’

Kenichi blinked at him. ‘Why…why are you helping me? We’re enemies.’

Jiraiya, his teeth gritted from the effort, shook his head. ‘We share the same pain. There can’t be any bad blood between us.’

Kenichi stared at him as Jiraiya pushed and pushed at the boulder, cursing and shouting in the collapsing chamber with all his might. Who was this strange, white-haired boy? Why was he risking his life to save someone who had kidnapped and tortured his friends? Kenichi knew he would never do the same, shared pain or not. Perhaps that wasn’t strictly true. Perhaps, when he was younger, he too would have fought for the enemy who understood him. For the little guy. After all, wasn’t that what the Inoshishi was all for? To protect those who needed it?

‘Ah. We’ve been blinded after all,’ Kenichi murmured.

With an impressive show of strength, his shoved Jiraiya in the chest and away from him. Jiraiya tumbled backwards, looking outraged, before he caught sight of the buckling cave ceiling above them.

‘What?! NO!’ he shouted, reaching forward with his hand.

‘There’s no time. You need to save yourself, kid,’ Kenichi said, not even looking up at the inevitable.

‘There is! Just take my hand!’ Jiraiya cried. ‘There’s time enough to save you, and there’s time enough to change! Just take my hand!’

Kenichi uttered something that might have been a sincere laugh. ‘You know what, brat? You’re pretty damn honourable.’ 

Suddenly, the hand reaching out to Kenichi was not Jiraiya’s. It was his own. It was the hand free of blood and steel, still human, untainted by the Kekkei Genkai that had been implanted into his very DNA. And he was no longer worthy of that power, or of his past.

‘Please!’ Jiriaya said, straining towards him. ‘Take my hand!’

‘Sorry, kid,’ Kenichi said, a small smile on his lips. ‘I’m just not that sort of man anymore.’

‘No!’

But it was too late. The rocks fell and they buried Kenichi in an instant. There wasn’t even an indication that he was there at all, buried under the weight of the cave ceiling. The only evidence of him, of his life, was carried off with the spirit of who he once was.

*

Orochimaru was still at a stalemate. Ren, the ice release user, was still in front of him, sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to think of a way to prevent Orochimaru from slitting the throat of his hostage. Neither were backing down, and Orochimaru knew full well that the other guards weren’t skilled enough to attack fast enough to spare the hostage.

‘Give up,’ Orochimaru said simply. ‘I don’t like repeating myself. It would be easier for all of us, that young girl included, if you got on your knees and accepted defeat.’

‘What, so you can just drag us back to Konoha?’ Ren snapped.

‘You need to pay for your crimes one way or another.’

‘And what of your crimes?’ Ren shot back. ‘You Leaf Ninja have done more damage than anyone else, but you seem to answer to no one. How can you stand there and chastise _us_ when your people have spent years spilling blood?’

Orochimaru’s lips pressed together in a thin line. They did answer to someone – though that someone depended on the individual. For him, it was Danzo. That man seemed to have few boundaries that he wouldn’t cross, but he did have Konoha’s best interests at heart. As a result, Orochimaru found himself buying into Danzo’s methods; do the unsavoury tasks for the good of the Village. He supposed Jiraiya only answered to himself and his moral code. It frustrated Orochimaru, seeing how confident Jiraiya seemed in his own will. He lacked raw ability, it was true, but he managed to tap into something Orochimaru couldn’t even imagine. How long would he spend staring at his back, he wondered? How long would it be until he too could carry that same hope and confidence in his heart?

‘I’ll give you one more chance,’ he said, his voice calm. ‘One more chance to hand yourselves over to me, and I won’t harm a single hair on this man’s head. But keep stalling, and there will be one less member of the Inoshishi.’

Ren’s jaw clenched. He side glanced at Kyomi. Her hand was on Aki’s shoulder and see seemed ready to make a quick getaway and protect the girl. What was truly jarring to him, however, was that the person in front of him only had a year or two on Aki, and yet he was so imposing. The look in his eye was determined and unwavering. Ren had no doubt that he had taken lives before, and would do it again in a heartbeat. But what could he do? Miki had a vision, one far greater than any one man, member of their Unit or not. Ren shook his head. No, they weren’t just a Unit. They were a family. You couldn’t sacrifice family.

Behind his back, he made a hand signal at Kyomi. _Left_. She made brief eye contact to say she understood, and slowly eased her hand off Aki’s shoulder. The poor girl was trembling, staring at Orochimaru with wide eyes. She hardly knew what to make of him. He seemed so young. His hair was long and black as night, but his skin was eerily pale, like he spent a lot of his time seeped in darkness. There was nothing warm or inviting about his aura, and truly, that alone was enough to scare her half to death. _This is what Big Sister Miki must mean_ , Aki thought to herself. _These are the powerful people who oppress the weak. These are the people who need to be stopped._

‘Now!’ Ren shouted. With his index finger stretched out, Ren pushed his foot forward in a peculiar stance, and something white and cold shot from his finger tip. It hurtled towards Orochimaru, right on track. Orochimaru reacted almost immediately, going to slice the edge of the blade across his hostage’s throat, but he found that he couldn’t.

‘What?’ he whispered. He looked down and found that Ren had fired a single stream of chakra to stick and freeze, fusing the kunai’s edge to the hostage’s skin, rendering it impossible to gracefully slide across and confirm the kill. At that same moment, Kyomi, the woman with the shaved head who was tasked with looking after Aki, darted to his left, wielding a lethal kunai of her own. Orochimaru was forced to abandon his hostage, his kunai still frozen to the man’s throat, and skidded backwards, avoiding her attack.

‘Gah!’ the hostage groaned, fiddling with the iced kunai. ‘Get this thing off me, Ren!’

‘Got other things to worry about right now!’ Ren shouted back.

Orochimaru, who was furious that he had to release his hostage, suddenly had no qualms about fighting. With a horrible retching sound, he opened his mouth. From his throat crept the handle of a sword: The Sword of Kusanagi. Ren pulled a face as Orochimaru drew it from him, its blade shining in the low light.

‘I don’t wanna even ask where you pulled that from,’ Ren grimaced.

Orochimaru didn’t answer. He knew what they all thought of him – the Leaf Shinobi other than Jiraiya and Tsunade, that is – they thought he was a freak. That his fighting style was wretched and grotesque. Some would even refuse to train with him. When Jiriaya was away and Tsunade preoccupied at the Leaf Hospital, Orochimaru had earnestly requested help from his peers, but they all refused. Even his old classmates wouldn’t go near him. But in the end, Orochimaru decided it didn’t matter. His style was effective, and even if it didn’t rouse the hearts of those watching, it got the job done. Wasn’t that the most important thing?

Rather admirably, if a little stupidly, the two other guards ran at Orochimaru with a warrior’s cry. He made quick work of them. Pirouetting elegantly, Orochimaru sliced the devastatingly sharp blade against one of the attacker’s stomachs, cutting a perfectly diagonal tear from the base of his ribcage to his hip. The man didn’t even have time to yell out in agony before he crumpled to the floor. The other followed a similar fate, though Orochimaru chose to stab him in the foot, bring up the handle of the sword to smack against his chin, and then slam him face first into the wall. His neck cracked and he was dead before he hit the floor. Calmly, Orochimaru pushed a strand of his hair from his eyes.

‘Next?’ he said.

‘Bastard! You damn bastard!’ Ren cried.

‘You decided their fate the moment you attacked me,’ Orochimaru said.

‘Don’t you dare blame this on me! This is your doing!’ Ren yelled. There were tears in his green eyes and he blinked them away furiously.

‘If you hadn’t taken my comrades, none of this ever would have happened,’ Orochimaru said, wiping the blood from his sword in the crook of his elbow. ‘Your thirst for power has resulted in nothing but death, and if you don’t choose your next steps wisely, you too will meet the same demise.’

Aki was crying, having fallen to her knees. She wanted nothing more than to run away and find her father, or even Miki, but she was paralysed with fear. Ren jerked his head over his shoulder and saw her, realising the gravity of the situation. He was almost certain Orochimaru would kill her if he had to. He had killed those two men without even a flicker of remorse, of doubt. It was like he wasn’t really seeing out of his eyes. Like he was acting on cold-blooded instinct alone. Like he was being controlled by some dark puppeteer.

Ren was not far off the mark; Orochimaru sometimes did feel like his strings were being pulled. With every swipe of his blade or every flex of his fingers as he weaved countless hand-signs, he wondered if his movements were really his own. Once upon a time, he believed he was going down his own path. That day in the hospital, when he wept in Tsunade’s arms and swore to himself that he’d become strong enough to protect his friends, he truly felt like the path in front of him had opened up. Like the sun dawning cool and fresh on the horizon, for the first time in his life, Orochimaru felt a clarity he’d never sensed before.

Long ago, when he trained, it was merely a distraction from his loneliness. Without his parents to guide him, he fell into a routine to purely pass the time. Every night after the Academy, he would either sit and study, or push the unoccupied furniture to the edges of the room and practise as hard as he could in the empty space. Then, Tsunade had come along. She started to fill that space, the space in his house and in his heart, and before long, training became more than a distraction, but a hobby. A hobby he began sharing with Jiriaya, too. The boy had bowled in and demanded he be involved, and Orochimaru had never counted himself so lucky in all his life. Despite all he had lost, he wouldn’t have changed it for anything. Because Jiraiya and Tsunade introduced real meaning into his life. They started to fill a void he thought would remain empty forever, and while his heart ached to find out what happened to his parents on their fated mission, the days spent training in the sun, sweat on his forehead and grass stains on his clothes, became the most cherished moments of his childhood. And the path he chose was one forged out of love for them both.

But the days grew dark when the sun went down. The path became filled with obstacles, with doubt, and the more time he spent away from his teammates, the more he forgot all he was working for. A new path was offered to him by Danzo, and at the end of it was the answer to his life-long question: _what happened to my parents?_ Before him, he often saw a crossroads. At the end of one of the paths, Tsunade and Jiraiya were stood, arms open, smiles wide. It was brighter, there. It was warm. But, as time went on, he felt himself being pulled down the other path. This one was dark, shadowy, and stained with blood. Danzo was at the end of it with the answers he sought. He didn’t really know how long he’d been travelling down that path. Perhaps he’d forgotten his days in the sun with his friends. Perhaps the fragile line between the want for answers and the want for peace had become too blurry. Perhaps, at the end of it all, he was weaker than his friends. Jiraiya charged headfirst down his path, and while he tripped like the clumsy oaf he was, he always had a smile on his face. Orochimaru wished nothing more than to follow him. But unfortunately, the hand that guided his blade was not Jiraiya’s. It was Danzo’s.

In anger, the hostage he had taken earlier, kunai still frozen to his neck, had tried to catch him unawares. Orochimaru had side-stepped and stabbed him in the chest without even thinking about it. He didn’t even Ren and Kyomi cry out in anguish. He couldn’t see Tsunade or Jiraiya. They had swayed him once with their words, which is why he was there in the first place, but they could not sway his manner. He would fight and kill the way he was trained. He moved by instinct.

‘Kyomi, don’t even try it!’ Ren shouted, but it was too late. Tears streaming down her face, Kyomi aimed with her kunai right at the base of Orochimaru’s throat, but she wasn’t even close. Orochimaru’s sword sliced down towards her shoulder, whistling through the air.

‘Don’t!’ Ren cried.

Orochimaru hesitated. Was that a hand on his shoulder? It was strong. It was broad. And there, on his other shoulder – it felt just as strong, though smaller. But there was another on his wrist, forcing the sword down. His arm shook as he made impact with Kyomi, the blade pushing through her flesh like he was cutting through hot butter. He might have heard her scream out in pain, but he barely noticed. He thought he was being kind, finishing the job. He wasn’t going to let her suffer. He plunged the sword into her stomach and her eyes widened, almost as if in shock. She slid from his grip and fell to the floor, blood soaking the floor of the chamber. She strained to look back at Ren, he eyes still filled with tears, though not for her. She fell and it was over.

Ren was shaking from head to foot. His friends, three of his friends had just died on the spot and he hadn’t even moved. Orochimaru was shaking slightly, too, as if shocked by himself. He shouldn’t have been. He had killed before. He would kill again. But for the first time in a very long time, he felt something like hesitation settle on his shoulders.

‘Y – you…how could you?’ Ren murmured. His fists were clenched so hard his nails were cutting into his palms, but he didn’t feel it.

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. ‘I told you. I gave you a chance - ’

‘ – don’t give me that bullshit!’ Ren yelled, his voice cracking. ‘You didn’t give any of them a chance! You – you just took their lives, like they meant nothing! You didn’t even hesitate!’

Didn’t he? He swore he might have, with that final blow.

‘They swore to follow us,’ Ren choked. ‘They abandoned the Villages that didn’t appreciate them and they bought into Miki’s vision. They…they trusted us with everything, and you killed them!’ 

Orochimaru shivered slightly. The temperature in the chamber was beginning to drop.

‘You’ll…you’ll pay for this,’ Ren muttered, regaining control of his shaking body. ‘You’ll pay for this, you cold-hearted bastard!’

Orochimaru took a deep breath. He had fought ice release before, and true members of the Yuki Clan. The imposter in front of him didn’t even scratch the surface of the real power of ice release. Though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t put up a fight.

The temperature in the chamber had dropped. Orochimaru shivered slightly and felt powerful chakra being to pulse around Ren, who was still shaking, and snowflakes began to materialise in the small space. Orochimaru’s breath turned to mist in the air, and he gripped the handle of his sword until his knuckles were white. He wondered how Jiraiya and Tsunade were getting on. If he finished things up quickly, he could go to their aid. And the fastest way to do that was to make the first move.

He flickered towards Ren in a flash and thrust the point of his sword towards him. _Move fast. Finish this quickly. Get back to them._ It wasn’t that Orochimaru doubted their skills (well, he _was_ slightly concerned for Jiraiya), but because he was so anxious for their well-being. Seeing either of them in pain, physically or mentally, rather felt like he was taking a punch to the gut. Having to see Jiraiya wither under the influence of the Fear-cap mushrooms, and seeing the redness in Tsunade’s eyes after Jun’s death, had impacted him more than he thought it would. After time apart, he wondered if his bond with them would have lessened. But if anything, he only felt it run deeper.

There was a clang as Orochimaru’s sword smashed against Ren’s hands. They were covered in ice. Orochimaru’s eyes widened. He had never seen the ice release used in such a tactile way before – he had endured ice shards and ice spears, mirrors and freezing mist, but never something like this. Ren had truly made it his own, even if it wasn’t his to begin with.

‘Argh!’ Ren snarled, shoving all his weight forward. He and Orochimaru wrestled for control, the snowflakes cascading around them in a small blizzard. It was cold and hard to see, and Orochimaru narrowed his eyes against the blasts of freezing air, unable to endure. For Ren, who commanded ice, it was not even worth batting an eye lid. With a yell, Ren threw Orochimaru off course. Orochimaru grunted as his skidded backwards, keeping his sword drawn up to his face.

Ren moved his limbs in a strange dance, and Orochimaru gasped at what unfolded before him. From every inch of his body, tiny ice crystals were firing at full force straight towards their target. Gritting his teeth, Orochimaru dodged and deflected as much as he could. Every time the ice hit, however, they crystalised the surface they touched. It wasn’t long until Orochimaru’s sword was glossed in a sheen of ice, and his clothes were furred with the cold moisture. He was growing surprised. While sloppy, it seemed that Ren had an impressive command of ice release. It was certainly unique.

‘Ha! How’d you like that?!’ Ren said, panting from the effort. Such a move greatly depleted his chakra, but in most cases, it ended the battle. Unfortunately for him, his opponent was not an ordinary Shinobi.

Orochimaru wiped away the blood that had been drawn across his cheek from a stray needle, and threw his sword up in the air. As it reached the top of its arc, he weaved hand signs so fast Ren barely registered what was going on. Orochimaru threw his head back as he completed the final hand sign, caught his sword in one hand, and released his jutsu.

_Wind Release: Gale Breakthrough!_

Ren yelled out in panic as a blast of relenting, powerful wind was exposed from Orochimaru’s open mouth. It blasted in the small chamber right towards him, taking off chunks of rock as it went. Ren, to his credit, managed to throw up a wall made of ice to try and lessen the impact, but the wind smashed straight through it and smacked against him, throwing his body with a nasty crunch against the cave wall.

‘Ren!’ Aki wailed.

‘Ack!’ Ren winced, blood spluttering from his mouth. He looked down in surprise. He had barely felt it, but Orochimaru had thrown his sword to channel along with the blast of wind, and it was embedded in his side.

‘Wha – what?’ Ren whispered, his eyes wide. It had happened so quickly. He didn’t think it would. He didn’t think he’d be like the other four. He thought he’d put up more of a fight. But the sword sticking out of his stomach was no genjutsu, and the cries coming from Aki were too painful to be fake. Shaking, Ren raised his head. He still had a lot of fight left in him, didn’t he? He didn’t want things to end her. The snowflakes that were falling around them in the chamber, they weren’t going to be his last. He liked to cast them to entertain Aki. It couldn’t be the end of it all.

Orochimaru marched over and yanked the sword out of Ren’s gut, making the man cry out in pain. He looked down at Ren almost pityingly.

‘Give up. It’s pointless to try and fight to protect them now.’

‘You have no idea the lengths I’d go for them, for all of them!’ Ren shouted, clutching his side. Blood was hot against his hand and he knew the damage would be fatal if he didn’t get medical attention quickly. He pressed ice to it, trying to seal it to stop the bleeding, but the internal damage was too great.

Was he really to die in a cave, at the hands of a Shinobi who worked for a Village system he so despised? _I’m never going to see Miki again. I’m never going to listen to Aki talk about how she wants to change the world. I’m never going to see Kenichi help trim old Takahiro’s beard. I’m never…I’m never going to see them again._ Ren pressed his lips together, feeling emotion burn up his throat. He refused to cry in front of his enemy. He refused to give in. He had something worth fighting for – his friends, hell, his _family_ , and their vision. He couldn’t let it all end there. Shakily, he looked up to Orochimaru, who was twirling his bloodied sword almost theatrically.

‘Oh, I have a fairly good idea of the lengths one can go to in order to protect those they hold dear,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I have people I care about, and who care about me in return.’

‘As if you ever could,’ Ren spat. ‘Look at you! Look at the sort of person you are! You’re threatening a young girl and you’ve just killed four people! How could anyone care about you, you monster!’

That might have stung if Orochimaru hadn’t heard it a thousand times before. _Freak. Weirdo. Mutant. Monster._ The whispers followed him everywhere. It was only when he was with Hiruzen, Jiraiya, and Tsunade, that the taunts fell on deaf ears.

Ren staggered to his feet, an ice spear materialising in a misty twirl in his bloody palm. He smashed the spear down against Orochimaru’s outstretched sword, but it shattered immediately. It seemed that, with his waning strength and chakra depletion, his ice release was not as strong as it had been previously. Orochimaru whacked him across the face with the back of his hand, and Ren cried out, his jaw crunched awkwardly against Orochimaru’s knuckles. He felt against the wall, his limbs splayed out inelegantly.

‘I don’t particularly want to kill you, but I will if I have to,’ Orochimaru said, his voice low and delicate.

‘Try it!’ Ren shouted, with impressive vigour for someone who had just been stabbed. Miki’s face flashed in his mind. All the training they had done, all the sleepless nights, all the experiments – it would be worth nothing if he gave up now.

‘I’m weighing up my options,’ Orochimaru said. ‘If I spare you, would you come quietly? Or would you endanger me and my comrades?’

‘Quit talking like you’ve already won,’ Ren panted. ‘I have plenty of fight left in me yet.’ _Yes. That’s the sort of thing Miki would say. Old Takahiro would call me an idiot, but he’s too practical. That’s what happens when you get old. Huh. Guess I’ll never find that out for myself, though._

‘I’ll believe it when you can stand, ice thief,’ Orochimaru said.

‘Ice thief?’ Ren scoffed. ‘You know, that has a pretty neat ring to it. I might keep it.’

‘You truly take pride in the power you’ve stolen?’

‘No more than you taking pride in the lives you’ve stolen.’

Orochimaru grimaced at the bleeding man in front of him and his mind flashed to Jun. ‘Your words would have more impact if the person speaking them hadn’t left one of my comrades to die.’

Ren raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh? So that guy didn’t make it? A shame, really. He fought hard for that Senju woman. Almost like he loved her, or something. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Fighting for love must for a foreign concept for a kid so eager to bloody his hands.’

‘Love is not foreign to me,’ Orochimaru said, his voice tight and flat.

‘Then why not show it?’ Ren said, his fists clenched. ‘Some compassion, or remorse, or anything!’

‘Is this you begging for your life?’

‘No,’ Ren murmured. ‘It’s me asking you to spare hers.’

His eyes went to Aki, who had drawn her knees into her chest and was sobbing quietly. Orochimaru looked over to her, too. She seemed so small. With a jolt, he found himself remembering the day he and Jiraiya had gone round to comfort Tsunade after Tobirama’s death. She didn’t want them there (Orochimaru was fairly sure she had thrown a paperweight at Jiraiya’s head), but the normality they brought with them seemed to distract her, if for a little while. But tears were shed and Orochimaru’s heart hurt to see her so saddened, so lost. The girl in the corner, though several years older than they had been, had that same aura about her. Sad. Lost. Alone.

_Alone. I was alone, once._

While he was briefly distracted, Ren tried to catch him off guard. A sharp needle of ice shot from the centre of his palm towards Orochimaru’s neck, but, with a slight flick of the wrist, he caught it in mid-air. Ren gaped at him. For such a young man, he was terrifyingly skilled. Orochimaru stared right back at him. There was something about his determined expression, and the fire in his eyes, that startlingly reminded him of Jiriaya.

‘You remind me of someone I know very well,’ Orochimaru murmured.

Ren glared at him, sweat running down his face. But his eyes held that same fire, that blinding light, the very thing Orochimaru was so jealous of. It was a trait that could be learned through sheer hard work and determination. Orochimaru, whom everything came easy to, never acquired that essence. But for Ren, and Jiraiya, and the rest of the Inoshishi, it became something that bubbled under the surface of their skin, burned in their hearts, and kept driving them forward until the very end.

But that trait could not avoid death. Only power could.

For the final time, Ren stretched forward with a closed fist, but it was devoid of ice or even snow. The temperature in the chamber had grown warm again, the ice in the air having melted against the rocks. Orochimaru almost found it remorseful, having to end the life of a man so determined. But he was too dangerous and too driven to spare. Orochimaru knew Konoha would never break him. He gripped the top of Ren’s red hair, raising his sword.

‘Farewell,’ he murmured. ‘Whatever it is you’re looking so hard for, I hope you find it in the afterlife.’

The last thing Ren saw was the golden flash of Orochimaru’s eyes, hard and devoid of emotion, before the blade was past over his throat. He gurgled as blood spilt from his throat in a sheet. Orochimaru held him upwards as he died. He didn’t want to see the man crumple at his feet, not when he had put up so valiant of a fight. When he felt the body grow limp, he laid him down gently on the ground. The last remaining snowflakes scattered over Ren’s skin and his hair, settling against the body, before fading away.

Orochimaru sighed and closed his eyes. _Another threat defeated, Danzo-sensei._ It was only when he heard a pathetic snivelling, that he remembered he was not alone. Aki was still there, having watched the whole thing. Orochimaru swallowed thickly. Would it be kinder, he wondered, to end her short life? It would surely cause her less pain in the long run. While he wasn’t certain of Jiraiya’s approach, he could guess that at least Tsunade would end up killing her targets. For revenge, if nothing else. That girl would be entirely alone.

_Alone. Like I was._

He walked up to her, slowly, flexing the bloodied sword in his hand. She didn’t even look up and him, or flinch away. Her watery eyes were fixed on Ren’s body. It was a sight no person should see, really. Orochimaru had seen them all. The bodies of the old, the young, the sick, the well. The only bodies he hadn’t seen were those of his parents. What had happened to them? Were they lost? Were they alone when they died? And this girl before him, was she to be alone, too? Was she to be lost?

_It would be kinder to end things here. Loneliness kills more people than the blade. She shouldn’t have to live in a world like this one. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be alive at all. Not back then. Not after…_

Aki had stopped crying. She seemed to be in a state of shock, her form shaking, her hands tight around her knees and interlocking, like she needed something to hold. Orochimaru cocked his head to one side, his hair falling over his face. Was this his fault? Was he the bringer of loneliness, with all the lives he took? Would it be better to end the cycle here, free her of the inevitable pain?

_Pain. I’m sorry. I know the pain you feel. I can end it. I can it for you._

His hand rose. His blade was poised. _Kill all witnesses. That is what Danzo-sensei would say. But this isn’t about witnesses. It’s about preventing pain. This is the one decision I can make._

Just as Orochimaru was ready to let his arm fall, his sword cutting through the air, there was that weight on his shoulder once more. The hand was warm and heavy and calloused. It was a hand he knew well.

_What would he do, given the circumstance?_

There was another hand on his other shoulder, back once more. It was small and strong and it gripped him hard, almost to the point of pain.

_Her hands heal. They wouldn’t kill. Would they?_

Aki finally raised her head up to stare him in the eye. Her face was set and reserved, as if she had totally accepted her fate and had lost the will to even try and fight. There was no fear, only acceptance. It was an expression Orochimaru rarely saw. Often, before he took a life, the expressions were frantic and desperate and twisted, as if despairing in their attempted to draw one last breath. To see such a stern and determined expression on the face of a girl so young, who had just seen her friends get murdered, almost floored him.

_Mercy is weakness in this Shinobi world._

Danzo’s words rang loudly in his head.

_Emotions weaken us. Feel nothing, and your body will move on its own instinct._

The hands on his shoulders seemed to be fading. Jiriaya and Tsunade. They were disappearing into the void, far away, down the sunlit path Orochimaru couldn’t quite reach.

_Join Root, Orochimaru, and you will grow truly strong._

Strength was something he needed. He could understand the Inoshishi, in a warped sort of way. Isn’t that what everyone is striving for in this world? Power? Power for what? For control, like Danzo? For equality, like the Inoshishi? Or for something else, something more? Something more important than any one individual? What made people tick, and go that extra mile?

_Jiraiya. Tsunade._

He felt both hands back on his shoulders. He knew the answer, of course. If there was anything more powerful than Danzo’s hand, it was them. It was their friendship, their support, their love. He felt as though he could master every jutsu in the world, if it meant he could protect them. And to their core, despite their flaws, Jiraiya and Tsunade were good people. Good people…they wouldn’t take lives unless absolutely necessary. Right?

‘ _Right, Oro.’_ Jiraiya’s voice rang in his mind much more clearly than Danzo’s had. There was warmth creeping up from the bottom of his stomach at the sound, the sound he knew so well. If he was ever going to catch up to Jiraiya, it wouldn’t be like this. It wouldn’t be through senseless killing.

Orochimaru dropped his sword. The sound of the metal hitting the ground clattered about the chamber, and Aki winced. But there was no need to. With Jiraiya and Tsunade behind him, Orochimaru believed he would never cause unnecessary harm again. He wondered if he was weak, being so reliant on them to keep him from falling into darkness, but in that moment, it didn’t matter to him. They were there for him. And he prayed it wouldn’t change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!!  
> Updating every fortnight really works, I think. Though I might aim to do it more frequently because it's getting juicy, BUT that might mean shorter chapters...  
> Anyway, I blooming hate writing fight scenes, which is why it took so long. I know this gets a little cheesy in places, but I wanted to have some moments that weren't plain old fighting just to spice it up a little, ya know?  
> Thank you for the lovely, lovely comments! I shall eagerly reply in due course, but rn it is 1am and I am one tired chick. Take it easy, happy reading, and feedback welcome xo  
> (Sorry for any mistakes/typos!)


	20. Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakumo faces off against the enemy, Jiraiya and Orochimaru regroup, and Tsunade is dealt a crushing blow. 
> 
> (Featuring a quote from the video game RDR2 (see notes for further comment!)
> 
> *SPOILERS/WARNING*: Depictions of violence, emotional turmoil

Chapter 20 – Symmetry

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

The moment Sakumo Hatake had caught Miki in the Hidden Mist Jutsu, Takahiro dispensed with it immediately. His eyes were wide and frantic. He had heard of the White Fang’s skills, but to see him so easily navigate the mist was truly astonishing. He knew it was too dangerous to face him head on, but the most he could do was support Miki so she didn’t have to deal with him alone. A little way away from him, Sakumo had Miki by the scruff of her collar, holding up above the ground. His sabre was in one hand and Takahiro was incredibly wary of the look in his eye. Would he kill her? The man was famous for being cut-throat, but even so, his words suggested he was reasonable. Still, it wasn’t worth the risk.

As Takahiro made to move forward and defend her, he felt the point of a kunai dig into the small of his back. He froze.

‘Don’t move a muscle,’ Tsunade said. After she had made sure her mother and Shion were safe enough, she had used the mist as cover to make her approach. The hand holding the kunai was trembling slightly, but it wasn’t in fear. She was angry. Angrier than she’d ever felt in her life.

Takahiro held up his hands, keeping his back turned to her. ‘I’m not going anywhere. But please, make sure that White Fang doesn’t hurt Miki, won’t you?’

‘You’re in no position to ask _me_ any favours,’ Tsunade snarled, resisting the urge to press the kunai into his back and pierce the flesh. ‘What the hell did you people do to my mother?’

Takahiro felt something horribly cold make its way down his spine. It was guilt, he was certain of it. ‘Ah. That Senju woman – she’s your mother, is she?’

‘Her name is Komako,’ Tsunade spat. ‘And you didn’t answer my question. What did you do to her? Why – why can’t she recognise me?’

Takahiro swallowed thickly. He made to turn around, but the kunai’s point was at great risk of stabbing him. He could feel the girl behind him shaking and had no doubt that, in her emotionally driven state, she would gut him if he made any wrong moves. Still, tell her the truth, and she might as well kill him anyway. His eyes went back to Miki again. She was fighting hard against Sakumo’s grip, whacking her hand down on his wrist, but Sakumo merely looked bored.

‘I’ll tell you the truth,’ he said, his voice wavering. ‘But I can’t say it’ll ease your pain, or make the next steps any easier. What’s important to me right now, though, is Miki’s life. The way I see it, you can’t dispose of me until I give you the answers you seek. But I won’t utter a single word until I can guarantee that the White Fang releases her.’

Tsunade gritted her teeth together. ‘What if I just get Sakumo to kill her anyway if you refuse to talk?’

Takahiro shrugged. ‘Then you would never get a single word from me for as long as my life lasts. The same goes for my daughter. If she has been harmed in any way, you may as well give up your efforts now, for I will not talk.’

He felt the pressure of the kunai ease slightly. _Good_ , Takahiro thought to himself. _Despite her young age, she at least seems to be reasonable. I might be able to save Miki from the White Fang yet._

‘Move, and we’ll kill her,’ Tsunade said. Her tone was deadly serious, but the look in her eyes betrayed her. Takahiro didn’t think she was the type to so casually take a life. She seemed a peaceful soul, even if her actions and her words boasted violence. But he was very wary about her reaction to the truth about her mother. He cursed himself, wishing he’d been firmer with his words towards Miki. _‘I strongly advise taking this woman off the Fear-caps. Order me to continue with the experiments all you like, but we need to find another way to sedate her. She won’t be able to take much more,’_ he had said. Why hadn’t he pushed her? Why hadn’t he convinced Miki to help spare her cognitive state? They were about to face the consequences of their actions, and he feared for them both.

Tsunade, warily, edged away from Takahiro. She felt the man wouldn’t be stupid enough to attempt anything, but he wasn’t weak. After all, it took a lot of control to cast the Hidden Mist jutsu.

‘Sakumo,’ she said quietly, reaching him. ‘Are you confident that you could stop her, even with the Byakugan, if she is released?’

‘Huh?’ Sakumo asked, craning his neck to look at her. ‘What do you mean, Princess Tsunade? We have her already. There’s not much she can do against me at this point.’

As if in an act of defiance, Miki kicked her dangling feet towards Sakumo, trying to catch his legs. She felt utterly humiliated. She had never been taken down so quickly, especially without sustaining any injuries. Sakumo was treating her like a troublesome child, not even taking her seriously, and she found it immensely frustrating. She could sense the gap in power between them, and it reminded her acutely of the old days when she was a serving Shinobi. How much weaker she had been, back then. Once she obtained the Byakugan, she believed she’d at least have a chance – but, against him, she felt like she was nothing.

‘Trust me. You said I could do it my way, didn’t you?’ Tsunade asked.

Sakumo sighed. He _was_ confident that he’d be able to keep a close eye on Miki, but personally, he couldn’t understand why Tsunade was being so lenient with her. She had kidnapped and tortured the girl’s mother quite literally to the point of no return. Sakumo was not the sort of man who was quick to revenge, but if he was in her shoes, he’d be struggling to control himself.

‘…alright,’ Sakumo said, releasing Miki. She immediately skidded backwards when he dropped her, her stolen Byakugan flashing dangerously. But she didn’t seem like she was going to do anything reckless. She would bide her time. It would be stupid to try anything more.

‘Miki, regroup,’ Takahiro said, gesturing to her.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ Tsunade snapped. She whipped around and grabbed Miki’s arm in a vice grip. ‘I said I’d free her from Sakumo, nothing more. I’m not going to hurt her, but she’s sure as hell not regrouping with you until you answer my questions.’

Miki’s eyes flashed towards Takahiro, as if to say ‘what the hell have you agreed to’, but she couldn’t free herself from Tsunade’s grip. The girl was freakishly strong, she could tell, and even if she did manage to get away from her, she had little doubt that the White Fang would stop her in an instant. _Goddammit,_ Miki thought, _if it was just the girl here, we might be able to handle things. But he’s too powerful without backup. Thinking that, where is everyone?_

‘Crafty girl,’ Takahiro said. ‘But I suppose it would be bad form for me to go back on my word.’

‘I wouldn’t expect someone like you to care,’ Tsunade spat.

Takahiro lowered his eyes. ‘Despite everything, I still have a moral code. You’d be hard pushed to find a person completely stripped of their capacity to experience emotional dilemmas, believe me. I’ve met a lot of people.’

‘Then your moral compass will probably guide you to answer my questions truthfully, if that’s the case,’ Tsunade said scathingly. ‘And if I think, for one moment, that you’re concealing the truth, I won’t hesitate to ask my companion to break your precious leader’s neck.’

Sakumo shivered, though it was not cold. He felt such intensity radiating from Tsunade in that moment, that it truly caught him off guard. She was being serious. Deadly serious. The times in the past he had met her, she struck him as a hard-working, perhaps slightly arrogant, but generally kind-hearted person. In that second, though, as her knuckles turned white around Miki’s arm, he wondered if he’d misjudged her. She was kind like Hashirama, that much was true – but her core was made of steel. Much like Tobirama.

‘Understood,’ Takahiro said solemnly. There was no point in fighting. She was going to find out sooner or later, though he feared her reaction. ‘Though I fear you may not like the answer.’

He took a deep breath, readying himself for the onslaught. When did this happen? Where did they go wrong? Ever since he left his Village and joined Miki, he never really sat down and thought about the consequences. In all his years, and in all that they had done, he had never had to face the fallout from the vicious decisions they made. The other people they’d kidnapped and extracted Kekkei Genkai from never had anyone come after them – or, if they did, they were never discovered. But Konoha had sent not one party, but _two_ , in order to recover those they had taken. First, it was Komako and Jun, along with the two Chuunin who were quickly dispatched. Then, it was Tsunade and the rest, followed hastily by Sakumo. Of course, Takahiro didn’t know Tsunade had acted on her own. To him, it merely seemed like Konoha was the one Village who cared enough about those lost to search for them. And, because of that, he was going to have to own up to what they had done.

_Miki…I fear we have been terrible fools_ , Takahiro thought, looking over at her. Her teeth were gritted in frustration and she was half-heartedly squirming against Tsunade’s grip. He wondered, when she and Kenichi had started the Inoshishi, whether she knew it would lead to this. Punishment. Retribution. Guilt. Had she ever stopped long enough down her path to wonder if she was doing the right thing? Miki had always been so driven by her goal of absolute equality that he wondered if her mind was able to engage with anything else. Or if she was merely afraid to, for fear of discovering a dark part of her soul that she wished never to dwell on. Either way, they would all have to face what they had done: and, that day, it was in the form of a daughter worried for her mother.

‘You see,’ Takahiro began, his voice shaking, ‘your mother, as a direct descendant of Hashirama Senju, if one of the few inheritors of the sacred art of wood release. Of course, you being her daughter…’ Takahiro trailed off.

‘I can’t use it,’ Tsunade spat, her voice full of venom. ‘And nor could my Mother. Doesn’t look my brother can, either – so, to call her an ‘inheritor’ is just downright wrong. There wasn’t anything to inherit in the first place. Wood release…it was unique to my Grandfather. That much has become very clear to me recently.’

‘That may well be the case, but we didn’t know that,’ Takahiro said, feeling sweat on his forehead. ‘In any case, I myself am a learned medical ninja, and therefore I have the knowhow to extract…to extract and isolate strands of DNA that may hold the code for wood release. Your mother may not have had the ability to use it, but that doesn’t mean the potential was never there.’

‘What do you mean?’ Tsunade said.

‘Forgive me for the crude way I am going to describe this, but it is the only way I know how,’ Takahiro said, remembering how irked Miki had been at his analogy. ‘Take a cis-gendered woman, for example. She, commonly, has the potential to have a child, or rather, the genetic makeup and biology to carry a child. Whether or not she does depends on numerous things; health, choice, the availability of a willing partner, and so on and so forth. In the case of Kekkei Genkai, the evidence is born with the person. The inheritor, if you will. In the same way a cis-gendered woman is commonly born with the _potential_ to carry a child, many Shinobi are born with the _potential_ to carry certain nature types. Whether they unlock them or not is an entirely different story. In your case, as a member of the Senju clan, while you might not have the exact requirements to harness wood release, it does not mean the code for its exact makeup is gone. It is in your genes. And it is my job to locate it.’

‘So…so your experiments were to try and isolate the DNA that holds the key to wood release, regardless of whether Komako could use it?’ Sakumo said, his brow furrowed. He had never heard of such experiments being conducted before – it was a new level of medical ninjutsu.

‘Y-yes,’ Takahiro said, bowing his head in shame. ‘The same can be said for all the prisoners, here. It’s my job to find out what makes the Kekkei Genkai tick, isolate it, and…’

‘ – and steal it,’ Sakumo said dryly.

‘For the greater good, I can assure you,’ Takahiro said quickly. ‘Or at least, that was the ultimate aim. We may have…gotten lost along the way, perhaps.’

‘That doesn’t explain why my own mother doesn’t know who I am,’ Tsunade said, her voice wavering slightly. ‘Have you got her under some sort of genjutsu? Or are the Fear-caps still in her system?’

‘That might well be. We used a great deal to induce her,’ Takahiro admitted. ‘Your mother is strong, easily the strongest we’ve captured. As a result, it took a lot more to subdue her. But, if I am to speak plainly, I cannot guarantee that she’ll recover, even when the side-effects from the Fear-caps have worn off.’

Tsunade blinked at him. ‘What? What do you mean?’

Takahiro stole another glance at Miki. _This is exactly what I meant when I said we should take her off the Fear-caps,_ he thought. He knew there was no point in stalling. Tsunade wanted answers, and there was no way he could take on both her and the White Fang without sustaining fatal injuries.

‘Being under such intense mental stress for so long has, obviously, negative side effects,’ Takahiro said, his voice low and quiet. ‘If you imagine the brain as a series of complex emotional circuits, then hers…they might have been fried. There is no way of telling for sure until she -’

‘What do you mean?’ Tsunade interrupted. Takahiro noticed, with some small degree of panic, that her pressure seemed to be increasing on Miki’s arm.

Takahiro wetted his lips. No matter what happened, he needed to make sure he was in the firing range for whatever was going to happen next. His duty was to Miki as her closest advisor, and to Aki as her father. Nothing else mattered.

‘I mean that she might not ever come back to you.’

As his words settled like lead in the air, Takahiro made his move. _Water style: Liquid Bullet!_

Tsunade, quite literally, didn’t know what hit her. She was totally frozen on the spot, as if spiked, thick vines had cracked up through the cave floor and had twisted around her ankles. _She might not ever come back to you_. The words rang over and over again in her mind with such intensity that she didn’t even notice Takahiro’s single hand signs, didn’t even notice his stance, and didn’t even notice when a shot of water came firing at her. She felt it smack against her face and blood filled her mouth as the concentrated water split her lip. It lived up to its name. She stumbled backwards, blinded by the impact, unwittingly releasing Miki from her tight grip.

‘Tsunade!’ Sakumo yelled, grabbing her from the back of her flak jacket and hauling her away as Takahiro appeared in front of her, aiming with his fist. He missed his target thanks to Sakumo’s quick reflexes, but he had achieved his goal: free Miki, and become the target.

‘Princess? Are you alright?’ Sakumo panted, having hauled her away. Tsunade was clutching at her face, feeling her lip swell. The taste of iron in the back of her throat was making her feel sick, but she wasn’t unfamiliar with it, at least. She felt something click and crunch in her mouth, and spat out a tooth.

‘I…sorry…I should have reacted faster,’ Tsunade whispered, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth.

‘Hey, it’s alright,’ Sakumo said. ‘It’s what I’m here for. Back-up, remember?’

‘Yeah,’ Tsunade said shakily. She couldn’t believe she’d frozen up like that. She had been so caught up with Takahiro’s words that she - _she might not ever come back to you_. 

‘No,’ Tsunade murmured, pressing her bloody fingertips to the ground. ‘No, no.’

‘What are our next moves?’ Sakumo said, glancing over to where Takahiro was applying the blue glow of medical ninjutsu to Miki’s arm. He assumed Tsunade’s monster grip had caused more damage than he suspected.

‘I…’ Tsunade trailed off, shaking her head.

Sakumo looked at her with concern. ‘Do you have a concussion?’

‘No, I’m okay,’ Tsunade said, swirling her tongue around her mouth and finding the sticky, gaping hole where her tooth had been knocked out. ‘But…I’m so angry right now that I can hardly think straight.’

Sakumo recoiled slightly. He hadn’t noticed it, the look in her eye. She was seething, her skin pale and her mouth bloody, and the hands she had pressed to the ground were cracking at the stone floor, her nails digging in like she was crumpling paper. A vein popped in her temple and he was reminded suddenly of Tobirama.

‘Right,’ Sakumo said, breathing deeply. ‘Well, first of all, we can’t be sure that what he said about Komako is actually true. Try and put it from your mind, breathe slowly and regularly, and clear your head.’

‘E-easier said that done,’ Tsunade said. She was shaking and her breathing was irregular. The last time she had felt so overcome with raw emotion was when she was a kid, right after training with her father had left her frustrated and disillusioned. She had thrown her precious necklace across the bathroom and Mito had tried to comfort her. But Mito wasn’t there. Her mother wasn’t either.

Tsunade pressed her lips together, trying to regain control. The anger pulsating through her body was to the point of scaring her. If anyone said the wrong thing to her, at that moment, she feared she’d remove their heads from their shoulders. What had happened? Is that the sort of person she was? One so quick to anger, that she became blinded by it? And why, of all the things she should have been feeling, was anger the one that bubbled to the surface? Her mother’s mind might have been lost forever, but all she could feel was fury. There was no sadness, no desperation, only raw, untamed rage. Why couldn’t she feel it? Why couldn’t she feel sadness? Her mother was her whole world, her biggest support mechanism growing up, along with her Grandmother. So why -

_‘Tsuna, you need to be more careful!’ Komako tutted, dabbing at her young daughter’s grazed knee. ‘If you’re going to be running around the place like some sort of wild animal, you at least need to look out for obstacles.’_

_‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Tsunade pouted, folding her arms. ‘That idiot Jiraiya challenged me to a race around the Village and I simply had to prove to him that I’m a million times better because he’s a snot-nosed little runt and I’m the absolute best, so really -’_

_‘Tsuna, that rather sounds like your fault to me,’ Komako fussed._

_‘How?!’ Tsunade shrieked. ‘He’s the one who challenged me!’_

_‘Yes, and you accepted,’ Komako sighed. ‘Listen, my girl, there is a time for rest, and a time for play. You need to learn when to pick your battles. Fight all of them, and you’ll end up with more than a crazed knee.’_

_‘Pfft, racing Jiraiya isn’t much of a battle. He’s so freaking slow I forgot we were even racing in the first place,’ Tsunade declared, thrusting her nose in the air._

_Despite herself, Komako put her hand over her mouth, laughing softly._

_‘What’s so funny?’ Tsunade demanded._

_‘Oh, nothing, little one,’ Komako smiled, patting her on the head. ‘I admire your spirit, that’s all. When Nawaki gets as big as you, I hope he carries the same enthusiasm.’_

_Tsunade clambered up from the kitchen chair where Komako was patching up her leg, and snuck a look over the basket where Nawaki was snoozing peacefully._

_‘Shush, now,’ Komako whispered. It had taken her ages to get him settled._

_‘I will,’ Tsunade whispered, though her ‘whisper’ was much louder than the common one. ‘Do you think he looks more like your or Father?’_

_Komako cocked her head to one side. ‘Well…he doesn’t have red hair, like me. He doesn’t have blonde hair like your father, either.’_

_‘Yes! It’s brown, like Grandpa’s!’_

_‘Hm, you’re right,’ Komako nodded. ‘Then I would say he looks more like me, then, since your Grandpa is my father. Though his eyes are a bit like yours, Tsuna! I know they’re not brown, but he has your lovely long eye-lashes and magical twinkle!’_

_‘Magical twinkle?’_

_‘Yes,’ Komako beamed, tapping her on the nose. ‘It’s a super duper, ultra-rare gift that only the strongest of Shinobi can obtain.’_

_‘Wow, really?’ Tsunade gasped. ‘Is it even stronger than wood release?’_

_Komako tried not to let the smile slide off her face. ‘Of course, Tsuna. A million times stronger.’_

Tsunade felt a hand on her quivering shoulder, jogging her from the memory. She jerked her head up, her fists thumping into the ground and leaving small craters, but there was something in Sakumo’s expression that stopped her.

‘Listen to me, Princess,’ he said, his tone soft and serious. ‘You need to give yourself a chance to calm down. You’ve just received terrible news, I know that, but if you’re going to perform to the best of your ability, and give me the orders you so vehemently requested, you need to regain some control.’

‘I – I don’t know how,’ Tsunade choked.

‘That’s because you’re young,’ Sakumo said. ‘Gee, you’ve got me talking like I’m some sort of Grandpa! But take it from me, Princess - there is a time to feel, and there is a time to heal. Both of these things take their own time to process, and honestly, the feeling part is going to hurt the most. It’s going to be confusing and complex and downright irritating, but you _have_ to go through it. This anger you’re feeling now is your knee-jerk reaction. It’s the easiest emotion to feel, and the easiest to process.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ Sakumo said, ‘in my experience, we feel it first because it skips all the confusing stuff in the middle and heads straight to the gut. Look, I know anger. Hell, I’d go as far as to say we’re old friends. The trick is to make sure this feeling doesn’t cloud your mind – make room for the other feelings, and then you can start to heal. Of course, you don’t have the luxury of time right now. But grasp this anger tight, hold it in your fist, and let it go. It will not help your decisions if it keeps burning your hand.’

Tsunade felt a lump in her throat. _There. Maybe I’m not just anger after all_. She breathed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling in regular succession. _She might not ever come back to you_.. It made her angry beyond compare. But the operative word, that _might_ – that was enough to clear her head. She looked up at Sakumo, her eyes calm.

‘The best thing to do it take them back to Konoha,’ she said. ‘As much as I want to…make them pay for what they’ve done, it is not the right thing to do. They could have valuable intel. They could be an asset. Killing them here would be wrong.’

Sakumo smiled, running a hand through his white hair. ‘Well said, Princess. Spoken like a true – well, spoken like your Grandfather, to be honest. So, our next move?’

Tsunade got to her feet, wiping the dried blood from her mouth. She felt an odd sense of complete control. Her senses were sharp and her mind was clear. ‘Lead the charge, Sakumo. Show them why they call you the White Fang.’

*

Orochimaru found Jiraiya about the passageways, trying to find his way to the other two. Aki, the girl he had spared, had run off before he could apprehend her. He let her go. It was easier than chasing her down, and less cruel, too. All he’d do is arrest her and take her back to Konoha.

‘Oro! Hey, gimmie a hand, would you?!’ 

Orochimaru turned and found Jiraiya buckling under the weight of both Hiromichi Uchiha and Fumihiro Hyuga, the latter of which was essentially dead weight, considering he was unconscious. _Goodness. Jiraiya is a lot stronger than I figured_ , Orochimaru thought, before shaking his head. Now was not the time for such musings.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said when he approached him. Even in the low light, he could see that Jiraiya was black and blue, blood running down from his temple. He had clearly been in a vicious fight.

‘Don’t worry about me, worry about these two!’ Jiraiya said, helping Hiromichi stumble into Orochimaru’s open arms.

‘Well, how about that,’ Hiromichi panted, his eyes fluttering. ‘Never would have guessed that Konoha’s freak would actually do something as selfless as rescuing me.’

‘Call me that again and I’ll put you back where Jiraiya found you,’ Orochimaru muttered.

‘Easy, guys,’ Jiraiya said. ‘We don’t have time for any of that. We need to regroup. You come across Tsunade at all, Oro? And are you doing okay? What happened to the ice release user?’

Orochimaru pressed his lips together, putting his arm around Hiromichi’s waist to support him properly. ‘He…he’s dead. I fared fairly well, but I can’t say the same for Tsunade. I haven’t heard a thing from her and she was up against two of them.’

‘Yeah, that’s what worries me,’ Jiraiya said, biting his lip. ‘I say we get Hiromichi and Fumihiro somewhere safe, and then go and look for her, maybe lend her a hand if she needs it.’

‘You don’t need to worry about us, Jiraiya,’ Hiromichi said, his voice weak and raspy. ‘I know we look pretty bad, but if the Princess needs your help, go and give it. We’ll manage just fine.’

‘You, supporting Tsunade? Wonders will never cease,’ Orochimaru said. He distinctly recalled the mutual dislike between the Senju heir and the Uchiha. He knew Tsunade had grown up enough to extend the olive branch, but he had heard Hiromichi had practically burnt it. The complex relationship between the Senjus and the Uchihas would not be resolved overnight, that was certain.

‘Well, she _did_ risk her neck in coming here, even if it was for her mother,’ Hiromichi mumbled. ‘Besides, we’re all Konoha Shinobi, aren’t we? We ought to look out for our own.’

‘That’s true,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Besides, if you two stand a chance, you’re gonna need her anyway to heal you. You’re both looking…pretty rough. Especially Fumihiro. He hasn’t regained consciousness since I found you.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Hiromichi asserted. ‘Don’t forget, I was on a team with him under Mitokado-sensei for years. He’s a lot tougher than he looks.’

Despite his words, Hiromichi’s expression betrayed him. He was deeply concerned for his friend. He had been forced to watch as that woman ripped out Fumihiro’s eye while he was still fully conscious and then chained up as they performed more torture techniques in an effort to secure the Mangekyo Sharingan. For what it was worth, the bitter part of Hiromichi felt, it _had_ worked. He had sensed the change in him. It would have been surprising if it didn’t: seeing his best friend wither and cry out for days on end would have an impact on even the steeliest of Uchihas. Luckily Jiraiya had arrived before they were able to prise the Sharingan’s secrets from his skull, but he shuddered to think about what would have happened if he didn’t. Most likely, both he and Fumihiro would be dead.

‘Well,’ Orochimaru said, stooped down so Hiromichi could lean against the cave wall, ‘it would be best, then, to leave you here. No offence, but the pair of you are dead weight.’

‘We can’t just leave them defenceless, Oro,’ Jiraiya said.

‘Jiraiya,’ Hiromichi said, reaching up to grab his wrist. ‘Go. We’ll be alright. Come hell or high water, I won’t let anything happen to Fumihiro. But when you’re done, don’t forget about collecting us, yeah? Would hate to get left behind.’

Jiraiya looked him in the eye, and saw his newly awakened Mangekyo Sharingan flashing in the dim light. He swallowed thickly, and nodded.

‘If anything happens -’

‘ – _go_ ,’ Hiromichi interrupted.

As Orochimaru and Jiraiya sped off down the narrow passage way, Hiromichi stared after them. _Never would have guessed that those two would end up becoming so close_ , he thought, a smile tugging on his lips. _The genius and the class clown…and the spoilt Princess, I guess. Orochimaru is right. Wonders do never cease._ He pulled himself closer to Fumihiro, looking over his pale skin. His face was taut like he was in pain even in his state of unconsciousness, and his missing eye had left an ugly crater in his face. Hiromichi clenched his fists, feeling his blood boil. For them to have done that was beyond redemption, at least in his eyes. Fumihiro, despite his flaws, was a good kid. He had lost his mother under the Second Hokage’s reign and for a long while, he wallowed in his grief. But he emerged stronger and wiser because of it. Hiromichi was confident that, when in doubt, seeking Fumihiro’s wisdom always set him on the right track. He moved forward and took Fumihiro’s slack hand. It was warm and sticky with blood.

‘Hang in there, alright?’ he murmured. ‘We’ll get back to Akari and Mitokado-sensei in no time.’

*

Jiraiya and Orochimaru were not even trying to be discreet by that point. Any guard they encountered, they knocked down. Any chamber they passed, they ignored, even if it was full of innocent prisoners. They only had one thing on their minds: Tsunade. She was, undoubtedly, an interconnecting force between them. For Jiraiya, as he was slowly and rather terrifyingly realising, she was the person he was falling in love with. He didn’t think anything of it, passing it off as a boyhood crush, but as the years went on, his pull towards her became more and more intense. He knew that she would likely not return his feelings, nor was it likely that he’d confess them, but he was painfully aware of all he felt for her. For Orochimaru, Tsunade was his ultimate support mechanism. That day in the hospital, after Jiraiya had been injured, burned more brightly in his mind than many episodes of his life. How she had held him, supported him, and accepted him. How he had sworn his life’s promise on his bond with her.

_We need to find her_ , Jiraiya and Orochimaru thought.

The first thing they noticed when they reached the chamber was Shion Rosh, the girl who had been kidnapped for her ties to the Kurama Clan, and Komako, who was slumped against the wall, her eyes glassy. The second thing they noticed was the overwhelming chakra pulsating from the chamber ahead.

‘Is – is that Tsunade?’ Jiraiya said, screwing his eyes shut against the intensity of the waves of chakra.

‘No,’ Orochimaru said. ‘It’s…Sakumo Hatake.’

The boys ran into the chamber and saw Tsunade, who was doing her best to keep up, support Sakumo, as he completely dominated both Takahiro and Miki. The latter was fighting viciously, backed up by an impressive display of water style jutsu, but even a blind man could see that they paled in comparison to Sakumo’s prowess.

‘S-Sakumo Hatake?’ Jiraiya squeaked. ‘The White Fang? What the hell is he doing here?’

‘Lending a hand, by the looks of things,’ Orochimaru said, his mouth falling into a smirk. ‘Seems like we’re not needed as of yet, Jiraiya. We should stay with the Kurama girl and Komako in case there are any nasty repercussions. A fight like this is bound to have extreme consequences, even if it is one-sided.’

As if on cue, Takahiro and Miki dual-weaved a series of hand signs – _Ox, Monkey, Hare, Rat, Boar, Bird, Ox, Horse, Bird, Rat, Tiger, Dog, Tiger, Serpent, Ox, Ram, Serpent, Boar, Ram, Rat, Monkey, Bird, Dragon, Bird, Ox, Horse, Ram, Tiger, Serpent, Rat, Monkey, Hare, Boar, Dragon, Ram, Rat, Ox, Monkey, Bird, Rat, Ram, Bird_ – and a huge, shimmering water dragon bloomed from the pair of them. They were sharing chakra and Miki was helping Takahiro perform the hand signs faster, given he only had one arm, and the result was quite amazing.

Tsunade took a few steps backwards, ready to accommodate the fast-rushing water, but Sakumo flickered in front of her. He extended his sabre up to the ceiling, and, though there was no sky, a sharp, bright shock of lightning exploded at the tip of the sword. It danced down the silver blade and crackled up his arms, until he was surrounded in untamed, ferocious lightning.

‘Heh,’ he smirked, bringing his blade down on the head of the dragon. The water exploded as the lightning tore through its glistening body, and it withered as if it was a living creature and pooled at his feet. The water hissed down on them like rainfall, thick and hazy, and Tsunade barely registered that Sakumo had used that as a cover until his sabre was an inch away from Miki’s throat. She ran forward herself, ready to tackle Takahiro in case he tried anything, but she didn’t need to. The man held up his hand in surrender.

‘I yield,’ he said, bowing his head. ‘We both do. That was an impressive display.’

‘No, we don’t!’ Miki roared, ducking under Sakumo’s sabre and aiming with her fist at his throat, hoping to catch him off guard. All she caught instead was a fist in the face off Tsunade, who stooped under Sakumo’s arm and jabbed her mercilessly in the nose, flooring her in an instant. Miki’s nose broke and she fell backwards from the sheer impact, collapsing into Takahiro.

‘Miki, there’s no point anymore,’ Takahiro said.

‘Get off me!’ Miki cried. ‘We can’t give up after everything we’ve been through! We can’t! It’s – it’s not in my nature!’

‘We can’t win,’ Takahiro said, grabbing her around her waist. ‘This man before us is hardly trying, and it’s clear the young lady can pack a punch. We’re lucky we’re not dead. We should not tempt fate.’

‘It’s not fate you should be worried about,’ Tsunade hissed. ‘It’s me.’

‘Princess,’ Sakumo said quietly, ‘remember what we discussed, yes?’

Tsunade breathed deeply, releasing her clenched fists. Her knuckles had split from the force of the impact against Miki’s face, but she knew she was holding back. At full power, she might have taken the girl’s head off. A large part of her still wanted to. But to kill them when they had surrendered was not the way. The right way, at least.

‘If you protest again, we won’t hesitate to kill you,’ she said, her tone firm and unwavering.

Takahiro swallowed thickly. ‘I…I believe you would. And we won’t. I’m old enough know to figure when I’ve been beaten, and you are truly the undisputed victors today. I won’t put up a fight.’

‘You might not want to fight, but I still do!’ Miki roared, pushing herself away from him.

‘My, my,’ came a dry voice. ‘You fight just as passionately as your underlings. You’re the leader, I presume?’

Tsunade spun around and saw Orochimaru and Jiraiya, the latter who was beaming in awe at Sakumo’s skill, entering the chamber.

‘Oro! Jiraiya!’ Tsunade said, breathless with relief. ‘You made it out in one piece, then?’

‘Just about,’ Jiraiya grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘But Oro is right – the people we faced put up one hell of a fight, but we both came out on top. Even managed to get Fumihiro and Hiromichi to safety, too, or about as safe as you can get in this place.’

‘Ah. You must be the Jonin-in-charge, no?’ Sakumo said, holding out his hand to Orochimaru. ‘I don’t believe we’ve been introduced! Good job managing Princess Tsunade. She’s not one for orders.’

‘Pleasure,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘And I can’t say I ‘managed’ her at all. Without Jiraiya, I would probably be six feet under by now.’

Sakumo let out a rich laugh, slapping him on the back. ‘I don’t doubt it one bit!’

‘Hey!’ Miki shouted, drawing all of their attention. ‘What’s with this cosy little catch-up, huh? You still have an enemy right in front of you! You don’t have time for chit-chat!’

Sakumo raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Oh, really? You mean to say that you, a lone Shinobi, has the confidence – nay, the stupidity – to take on not just one enemy Shinobi, but four? One of whom who is undoubtedly holding back her anger so she doesn’t kill you in one hit? And another of whom is – excuse the arrogance – _me_? Don’t be a fool, Miki of the Inoshishi. There is no need for more blood to be spilt this day. Back down.’

Miki gritted her teeth together, looking wildly around the room. Takahiro had completely given up, being the wiser of the pair, the guards were defeated, and her precious allies were nowhere to be found. To say she felt cornered was an understatement. And before her stood the people she despised. _Those who are born strong._

‘I…’ she stammered, ‘…I can’t. I’ve worked so hard for this, lost so much, I – I can’t just back away now, not when I’m so close.’

‘Close to what?’ Tsunade said. ‘We’ve busted your lair, rescued your most valuable assets, and defeated your comrades. You’re finished.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Miki choked. ‘How could you? _You_ _,_ who has Hashirama Senju’s blood running through your veins. _You_ , who hails from a Village rich in security and strength. _You_ , who has the ability to swan into enemy territory and rescue the people you care about. I would _die_ to have just an ounce of what you have.’

‘What I have?’ Tsunade scoffed. ‘What I have is a worthless title that weighs me down. And any strength I have, I worked for. You think I would spend all this energy and time training if I was just born with it? The world doesn’t work like that!’

‘Don’t give me that rubbish,’ Miki spat. ‘Inherited talent beats work without hesitation. You’re the sort of person who will always be pulling ahead just because of your DNA, leaving people like me, the ordinary, behind in the dirt!’

‘That isn’t strictly true, if I may intervene,’ Sakumo said. ‘This is hardly the time or place to be discussing the philosophies of hard work verses natural-born talent, but I am living proof that hard work can easily extend beyond the reaches of what so-called talent can acquire. My Clan hails from Konoha, and was one of the first, but we are by no means strong. The Shinobi we have produced are noble and brave, it must be said, but to say we are talented is a great overstatement. In fact, it’s a mistake. Our power comes from hard work. What you see before you today, Miki of in Inoshishi, is a clash of concepts. You believe strength comes from one’s genes, but that is just one _type_ of strength. Besides, do you honestly think that Tsunade has come this far through talent alone? One has to work to realise talent to its fullest extent, just as one has to work to realise their own strength. It seems to me that you are merely frustrated by your own shortcomings and do not possess the dedication to move forward in the right direction.’

Miki blinked at him, slowly absorbing his words. Her face twisted. ‘You – you think I’ve done all of this because of _frustration_? That I sacrificed what was left of my soul by torturing these people for their Kekkei Genkai for the sake of such a trivial emotion? That I risked the lives of my dear friends in the name of something so frivolous?’

Sakumo shrugged. ‘I think frustration is another form of anger. And, like I’ve said once before, it is the easiest emotion to feel. Because of that, it is the easiest to use.’

Miki shook her head, pressing her palms to her forehead. ‘You’re totally deluded. All of you.’

‘We’re not the ones who kidnapped innocent people,’ Orochimaru muttered. 

‘That’s because you haven’t been pushed to the extent where you might break!’ Miki cried, throwing her arms out. ‘You can never understand weakness because you’ve never felt it!’

Jiraiya, Orochimaru and Tsunade all recoiled, ever so slightly, at her words. Is that really what she thought of them? Did she think them all-powerful, the kind of people who had never faced adversary, their souls untouched by pain and torment and suffering? Jiriaya felt weakness his whole life. A part of him always would. Orochimaru felt weakness every time he walked into his empty home and was hit by the evidence, over and over again, that his parents were gone. Tsunade felt weakness when she failed, time and time again, to perform wood release. To say the future Sannin had never felt weakness couldn’t be further from the truth.

‘Miki,’ Takahiro said, taking her hand, ‘stop this, please. We need to lay down our weapons and admit defeat. It was…a noble dream, the one we shared. And there’s no shame in looking for a better world.’

‘If it’s a better world, then how can you ask me to give up on it?!’ Miki choked.

Takahiro sighed, trying to find the right words. ‘Because…because we have gone about it in the wrong way. I see that now.’ He looked up at Tsunade, his eyes full of remorse. ‘For we have taken a mother from a daughter in the most inexcusable of circumstances.’

Miki shook her head. ‘That is the Shinobi way. Lives are lost every single day – mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, lovers – that’s how the world works! It thrives on death and decay!’

‘Then why have we tried to change the world by using the methods it employs already?’ Takahiro murmured.

Miki stopped in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. They had taken so many lives. Dumped so many bodies. Were they no different from the rest? ‘Because…because they would do the same thing to us! They – these people – they exploit the weak to keep control of power! We’re just trying to find our own way in this Godforsaken world!’

‘And our way…it is no better than the rest,’ Takahiro swallowed, the realisation that had been creeping up on him for so long finally dawning on him. Seeing Tsunade, and being confronted for all he had done, had been the final nail in the coffin. He had to own up. It was the only way.

Miki stared at him, trembling. ‘Takahiro,’ she whispered, ‘are you giving up on me?’

Takahiro felt his eyes grow damp. ‘No, Miki, no. Never. You are, and always will be, a shining light. But it’s not a stretch to say you might have gotten a little lost along the way.’

‘What – what do you mean?’ Miki said.

‘We all lose our way from time to time, my dear,’ Takahiro said, his voice wavering. ‘Some more catastrophically than others. But that does not mean it’s the end of the path. I think you know, deep down, that you’re lost. That is no one’s fault. And I’m not saying it’s an easy thing, finding your footing again. But I will never give up on you, Miki. You just need to promise me not to give up on yourself.’

‘Well said,’ Sakumo said, feeling strangely humbled. The man before him had clearly lived and long and intricate life. His wisdom, drawn from multiple sources, had weaved a complex tapestry of understanding that even he couldn’t scratch the surface of.

‘We’ll come quietly,’ Takahiro said. ‘But please, find my daughter. She is too young to be caught up in all of this.’

‘I spared her,’ Orochimaru confirmed, suddenly feeling even more grateful that he’d made the better choice, ‘but she fled. We can search the caves for her, but unfortunately, she is not our priority, and you are our prisoners.’

Takahiro lowered his eyes. ‘She’s alive. That’s all I need, for now.’

Sakumo sighed. He knew, in his heart, that the moment they returned to Konoha, he’d request to look for the girl. To leave someone that young after she had lost everything was cruel, even if she was the daughter of the enemy. Sakumo hoped that, despite their differences, there was still such a thing as common human decency.

‘You there, the girl with the necklace,’ Takahiro said, looking at Tsunade. ‘Bring your mother to me. There is still hope, if the hands that hurt her try their turn at healing.’

‘So, it’s not enough that we give ourselves up, but now you want to help them?’ Miki said, her fists clenched.

‘We must start repairing the damage we have made. It is the best way to find our footing,’ Takahiro said.

As Sakumo busied himself keeping an eye on Takahiro and Miki, Jiraiya headed over with Tsunade to get Komako.

‘You doing alright?’ he asked anxiously. He had tried to talk to Komako earlier, when Sakumo was clashing with the enemy, but she was totally vacant. It was like she didn’t recognise him, or Orochimaru, despite the fact they’d been around her in the Mansion more times than he could count.

Tsunade nodded slowly. ‘I…think so. Are you? You look like you had one hell of a fight.’

‘I’ve had worse,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I tried to save the guy, you know, but I…I wasn’t quick enough. Still, nothing years of therapy won’t fix!’

Tsunade looked rather concerned. ‘That does not fill me with confidence.’

‘I’ll be okay,’ he said sincerely, reaching over and patting her on the shoulder. ‘Honestly, I will be. I should have known this would happen sooner or later on this path. Taking a life, I mean.’

‘I was incredibly close to taking one myself,’ Tsunade said, shuddering slightly when she remembered her intense anger towards Miki. ‘But Sakumo brought me back from the brink.’

‘He seems like a nice guy,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I like his hair - it’s kind of like mine!’

‘Sakumo’s looks cool. You just look like a prematurely old man.’

‘You know, you could at least try being nice to me from time to time,’ Jiraiya scowled.

‘Now where would be the fun be in that?’ Tsunade smirked.

If anything was going to rouse Komako out of her state, it would be Jiraiya and Tsunade bickering. Their first interaction had been as such; Jiraiya remembered it well. It was around the time when Hashirama first fell ill, and there was quite the commotion down his street. He had stuck his head out of the window and called the late Hokage an ‘old geezer’, immediately earning Tsunade’s distain, who was unfortunately in earshot. The rest, as they say, was history. But constantly locking horns and challenging each other had beneficial results: neither wanted to lose to the other, so, they would seek to better themselves. In truth, Jiraiya wondered what kind of a person he’d be without her. Orochimaru, too. To say they shaped him was an understatement of the highest calibre.

Tsunade knelt down beside Komako, resting her hands on her knees. Shion, who was next to her, nibbled her lip nervously. She had been without her medication to control her genjutsu for a long while, but now was not the time to worry Tsunade with such musings. She liked the girl, from the few times she had aided Biwako at the Hospital with the treatment plan, and was one of the few people she saw who was her own age.

‘Has she stirred at all?’ Tsunade asked, looking up at Shion.

‘Oh, no,’ Shion said, twisted her fingers together. ‘I’m sorry. She hasn’t said a word since you left us here. Even when those two boys showed up, she didn’t say anything.’

Tsunade’s brow furrowed. She took her mother’s hand and held it up, as if trying to jog her awake. Jiraiya sighed, not really knowing what to say. Komako, though her eyes were open, was completely vacant. It was like she wasn’t in.

‘Mother?’ Tsunade said, her voice gentle and cautious, as if worried about scaring her. ‘Can you hear me?’

Komako remained stiff. If Jiraiya didn’t no better, he’d say she was already dead. He shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. Losing Komako would be a blow not only to Tsunade and her family, but to him as well. He had spent much of his childhood around the Mansion with her and Mito, so much so they practically became like his own family. Benjiro, his father, thought it was hilarious, a boy as boisterous as he becoming so closely acquainted with the Senjus. Mito had always been kind, and Komako had inherited that trait. And little Nawaki – he was only eleven. Having lost his mother himself, Jiraiya wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all someone as sweet and unassuming as Nawaki. His clenched his fists. It would be fine. It had to be.

‘Mother?’ Tsunade said, slightly louder, squeezing her hand. Jiraiya knelt down and rested his hand on her shoulder. Since their conversation at the campsite before they arrived at the caves, he had felt he was able to be tactile with her. Something had undoubtedly shifted in their friendship then; he was sure of it. She had confided in him about her father, revealing that she thought he could still change. Redeem himself.. Sharing such a private part of her musings had altered their friendship – theirs was one of competition, childishness, and shared interests. But after that, to Jiraiya at least, it became something more meaningful. A friendship of trust.

‘She’s not responding at all,’ Tsunade murmured.

‘Why don’t you try soothing her with your healing jutsu, or something?’ Shion said, not quite knowing what she was talking about but trying anyway. Such was her nature.

‘It might complicate things,’ Tsunade said. ‘Too many healers can ruin the cure. We’ll take her to that man and see what he can do. If anyone can reverse the damage, it’s the one who caused it in the first place.’

‘Are you sure we can trust him?’ Jiraiya said.

‘Yes,’ Tsunade said simply. ‘I don’t think he means us any harm.’

She was right. Takahiro seemed almost feverish in his want to start righting the wrongs he had caused. While Miki looked utterly furious, a dark shadow cast over her stolen Byakugan, Takahiro eagerly worked on his patient. He wasn’t sure whether there was much he could do, but the moment Jiraiya gently lay Komako down in front of him, he got to work. Tsunade, at first, watched him, as if hoping to learn from him. But after a while, she grew weary. Seeing her mother in such an unresponsive state was troubling her. She took several steps backwards, her hand playing with necklace.

_Don’t die_ , she thought. _Don’t die. Don’t die. Don’t_ –

‘ – Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said quietly, ‘you’re about to walk into me.’

Tsunade stopped just shy of backing into Orochimaru, who was stood a little way away from the group. Sakumo had instructed him to stay near the exit, just in case Miki really did try and make a break for it, and he was dipped in shadows.

‘Oh – sorry, Oro,’ Tsunade murmured. ‘I – I just can’t stand to watch.’

‘I understand,’ Orochimaru nodded. While he had never seen his parents’ bodies, given they were never recovered, the thought of their pale, lifeless forms plagued his dreams when he was a boy. Komako looked much the same. Were it not for her shallow breathing, he would have thought the worst. He felt like he should do something, anything, to offer comfort. But Orochimaru was no good at such things. Jiraiya was the one to offer a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on, not him.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to. Tsunade leaned into him almost instinctively, her head resting on his shoulder. He froze momentarily. What would Jiraiya do in this situation? _Probably something perverted, knowing him_. Awkwardly, he stiffly put his arm around her waist. When she didn’t recoil from him, he kept him arm there, looped around her. Supporting her. Like she had supported him.

_That wasn’t so hard, was it?_

Takahiro was sweating. He was casting a lengthy and complex calming jutsu in an attempt to settle Komako’s mind and dispel what was left of the Fear-caps potency, but the issue was, her mind itself had already been impacted. He swallowed thickly. In the simplest of terms, it appeared to him that the source, her mind, had already been damaged beyond repair. It was like he was fixing the aesthetics of a puppet without mending its internal workings. It was practically futile. But he wasn’t about to give up.

‘Phew,’ he muttered, rubbing his chin against his shoulder to rid it of sweat. He hadn’t worked on actually healing people in so long that he was, admittedly, not used to it.

‘You alright there? Anything I can do?’ Sakumo offered.

‘Turn back the clock, if you’re able,’ Takahiro said, giving a half-hearted laugh.

‘Don’t say such things,’ Miki snarled. ‘You’re acting as though you want to completely erase these last few years.’

Takahiro sighed. He needed to concentrate, but Miki was, fundamentally, more important to him. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, Miki. I wouldn’t give up my time with you all for anything. I merely wish we…hadn’t been so brutal. That’s all.’

‘It was necessary,’ Miki said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. Everything she had dedicated herself to had come crashing down around her head, and as the dust was settling, doubt crept into her heart. It didn’t help that Takahiro, one she respected above all else, was under the firm impression that they had done wrong. Had they truly made a mistake? Her values, her mantra, her way of life – was it all worthless?

After some time, Takahiro felt like he was getting somewhere. Jiraiya was sat down, leaning against the cave wall with Shion. They were talking in low tones, apparently getting to know one another, but Jiraiya was doing most of the talking. But that was the sort of person Jiraiya was – he made friends with anyone he shared oxygen with. Shion, in return, didn’t have much to say. Her life was spent in the Hospital, so it wasn’t as if she had shared life experience. That didn’t particularly matter, though. Jiraiya was doing enough talking for the both of them.

Orochimaru was still by the exit, his arms folded, watching Tsunade as she paced up and down. She was agitated, clearly doing her best not to ask Takahiro for the umpteenth time about her mother’s condition, and failing miserably. Sakumo, meanwhile, was simply staring at Miki. She hadn’t said or done anything for some time, and it was making him nervous. Her head was bowed and she was staring at her hands. It was like the very eerie calm before the storm.

‘Ah!’ Takahiro cried, making everyone jump. He pulled his hand away from where it was resting on Komako’s forehead. Her eyelids flickered and she opened them, gazing up at the ceiling.

‘Is she okay?’ Jiraiya demanded, leaping up.

‘You did it!’ Sakumo exclaimed.

‘Mother? Mother!’ Tsunade said, rushing over to them. She fell to her knees rather painfully but it didn’t matter – Komako was alive. Better yet, she was awake, struggling to get into a sitting position.

Komako blinked around at them all, her palm pressing against her forehead. It had felt like she’d been burned there, the intensity of Takahiro’s healing leaving its metaphorical mark. She felt as though she’d fallen, fallen from a great height. Her head was splitting and her body was aching, and everyone around her was blurred, like she suddenly needed glasses.

‘Where – where am I?’ she managed, her eyes half-lidded.

‘You’re in the Land of Mountains on the outskirts of Kagero Village,’ Tsunade said, with impressive composure. ‘You were out on a mission with Jun, Touta and Noriko, your students. You were attacked. You’ve been here for days, but we weren’t allowed to come after you because Sarutobi-sensei was being unbelievably stubborn, and -’

‘Slow down, Princess,’ Sakumo said gently. ‘She’s only just woken up. Give her a minute.’

Tsunade, almost vibrating with the effort, closed her mouth. Komako, slowly, carefully, looked around the chamber. She’d been there for days, had she? She could hardly remember.

‘I…can’t remember a thing,’ she admitted, her speech slurred and quiet.

‘That’s not surprising,’ Takahiro said. ‘The mental strain you have been enduring is very intense. It might take some time for everything to come back to you.’

Komako shook her head. ‘No…I mean…I really can’t remember a thing. Who did you say I was with? J-Jun?’

Tsunade swallowed thickly. Maybe it was better Komako didn’t recall Jun immediately, for she would have to break the news to her that he didn’t make it. ‘Yes. Jun. He was – er – I mean – he’s an old friend of the family’s. You know, he was always on patrol around the Mansion.’

‘The – the Mansion?’ Komako said, her face screwed up in confusion.

‘The Hokage Mansion,’ Tsunade said, her voice growing smaller with every word. ‘Home. In Konoha.’

Komako merely looked at her. She smiled, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry. I know I must seem terribly rude, but I can’t recall anything like that. A Mansion? That…that doesn’t sound like me at all. Are you quite sure?’

‘Y-yeah,’ Tsunade said, her voice wavering dangerously. ‘Grandfather built it. We all live there, together. You and me, father and Grandmother, and Nawaki.’

‘Nawaki? Who’s that?’

Tsunade felt like she’d been hurled headfirst into a terrible genjutsu. _Nawaki? Who’s that?_

Sakumo put his hand on Tsunade’s shoulder, as if to say _let me try,_ but he was shaking slightly. He put his sabre down and gently laid one palm flat on the ground, the other atop Komako’s knee. ‘Komako, do you remember anything? About Konoha, about your family? Do you know who I am?’

Komako gazed at him for a while, her eyes squinting. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t say I do.’

‘Remember me, that is?’ Sakumo said. ‘No, I doubt that you would, we didn’t often see each other.’

‘No, I meant…Konoha? What’s that?’ Komako said.

Sakumo’s face fell. He looked over at Takahiro, who was looking crest-fallen.

‘Could you not cure her? Or might we have to wait for her to get her bearings?’ he asked, standing up again.

Takahiro looked anywhere but the Leaf Shinobi. ‘I…I did everything I could. I sensed while I was healing her that there was a lot of irreparable damage to basic cognitive functions, particularly the hippocampus, which deals primarily with memory and organising episodic events.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ Jiraiya barked.

‘It means…it means I was able to soothe the effects of the Fear-caps and regain her sense of control, but I can’t…it’s not possible to…’

‘To what? Spit it out, old man,’ Orochimaru demanded.

‘I can’t repair the damage,’ Takahiro said simply. ‘The impact of enduring such intense mental – er – experimentation, shall we say, in order to keep her induced, has compromised her mental functionality. Though admittedly, it isn’t as bad as I feared. She hasn’t regressed in mental age, she still has impressive language ability -’

‘ – not as bad as you feared?!’ Tsunade snapped. ‘Are you kidding me?! She doesn’t even know who we are! Who _I_ am -’

Tsunade’s voice broke, as if the realisation of what had happened was finally dawning on her.

Roughly, Jiraiya pushed forward and shook Takahiro by the shoulders. His jaw was clenched and he looked ready to punch the man into the middle of next week, were it not for his potential healing prowess. ‘You gotta do something. You said you’d fix her, didn’t you? Well, this isn’t fixed! She can’t live her life like this, not knowing her own family! Do something!’

Takahiro shook his head, growing pale. ‘I – I can’t. Even if I could, I don’t have the chakra left to perform such -’

‘– then take some of mine!’ Jiraiya demanded. ‘Or tell Tsunade how to do it and she’ll – she’ll work it out! She always does!’

Takahiro didn’t know what to say. He just shook his head, his eyes glued on the floor. He didn’t even want to say _I’m sorry_ , because that merely asserts the sentiment that the patient is dead. Those words, thought supposedly comforting, confirmed the worst. _I’m sorry. There’s nothing more we can do._

‘Well, it’s probably for the best,’ Miki said cruelly. ‘After all, you need to have _some_ chakra left to heal Kenichi and the others. I doubt they came out unscathed.’

‘Unscathed?’ Orochimaru snorted, equally cruel. ‘They’re dead. Both of them.’

Miki stared at him. ‘What?’

‘I killed that ice release user, and I took great pleasure in it,’ Orochimaru growled, his anger at Komako’s condition spurring him on shamelessly. ‘And my friend here finished off that steel release user. We spared the girl, but there’s no point in maintaining chakra levels unless the old man has the extraordinary ability to revive the dead.’

‘I can’t be,’ Takahiro murmured. ‘Kenichi and Ren? They’re both gone?’

‘It was the only way,’ Orochimaru muttered. ‘The kindest, too. I’d be more worried about yourselves. You won’t receive a warm reception in Konoha once we reveal all you’ve done – and mentally scarring the First Hokage’s daughter is the final nail in your sorry coffins.’

‘You…you…’ Miki whispered, her body trembling. _Kenichi. Ren. You can’t possibly be…you can’t leave me. Not after everything we’ve been through._

‘What?’ Orochimaru snarled. ‘Did you expect we’d be merciful, after everything you’ve done?’

‘We wanted a better world!’ Miki cried.

‘A world built on something like _this_?’ Orochimaru shouted, finally losing his cool. He gestured around the chamber, to the bloody chains on the walls, the stains on the floor, the torturous equipment they used to extract DNA, and to Komako, who was looking at Tsunade like she was a complete stranger. ‘How deluded are you if you believe anything _better_ could spawn from this! This is nothing but pain, destruction, and torment! You’re a fool if you thought it was going to end any other way!’

Miki had tears in her eyes, shaking her head vehemently. _Kenichi. Ren. Gone._ She looked up at Orochimaru, his yellow eyes like lanterns in the dull light, pale skin starkly apparent against his dark hair. She looked at Jiraiya and Sakumo, white-haired and lethal. She looked at Tsunade, at the necklace around her neck, and at Shion, who was nervously looking on from the corner. Then, she looked at Takahiro. He was utterly defeated. There was no spark left in his eyes. She was surrounded by enemies in the very place she had once been surrounded by friends.

_‘I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Miki,’ Kenichi said lazily, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. They were huddled in the cave, the first night they’d arrived at the makeshift base, and Ren and Aki were out scavenging for food. Takahiro was busy setting up all his medical equipment, so the pair had a moment alone._

_‘Of course I’m worried,’ Miki admitted, in a rare show of vulnerability. ‘I mean, I know we’ve come a long way – especially now you and Ren have obtained Kekkei Genkai – but we’re still…you know, we’re still not powerful. Are we?’_

_Kenichi shrugged, stretching out. ‘It depends on what you class as powerful. I’d say we’re pretty impressive, given everything we’ve been through. The fact we’re both still kicking is a feat in itself.’_

_Miki smiled slightly. ‘Yeah. I guess you’re right.’_

_‘We’ve been through a lot, you and I,’ Kenichi said. ‘Seen a hell of a lot, too. But we came out the other side with a vision for a brighter future. You know that, right?’_

_‘I know,’ Miki replied, leaning into him. ‘But I can’t help but feel like I’m still that helpless little Kunoichi, lost on the battlefield, terrified for her life. That’s not something you forget, is it?’_

_Kenichi swallowed, entwining his hand in hers. ‘You’re right. It’s not. Feeling weak stays with you for life. But, you know, there’s a really quick way of proving otherwise.’_

_‘What?’_

_Kenichi smirked, nudging her playfully. ‘Why, you gotta beat someone powerful.’_

She was surrounded by enemies. Kenichi was dead. Ren was dead. Aki was gone. Takahiro had turned on her, given up on her, even tried to cure the enemy. Her vision was blurred with tears. She could see the Leaf Shinobi, the people who had taken everything from her, surrounding on all sides. To the left, the right, in front of her at her feet.

‘You…took my family,’ Miki stammered.

No one heard her. They were too busy fussing around Komako, trying to say something to help her regain even a small fraction of her memory. Tsunade had taken her necklace off and was showing her, tears in her eyes, saying things like _remember when this was given to me? Remember how much Nawaki wanted it? Remember, it was Grandfather’s_? Jiraiya was saying things that Miki couldn’t understand – though cake seemed to feature a lot – and even the other one, Orochimaru, was firing her questions. Mainly about the layout of their Village, as if the architecture might inspire one memory or another. Their Village. Their home. Their family. She didn’t have any of that, now. Surrounded on all sides. Weak. _Weak._

Miki clenched her fists. Komako Senju, the daughter of the First Hokage, famed for her prowess, was right in front of her. _Why, you gotta beat someone powerful._

Miki made her decision without thinking about it. The White Fang’s sabre was still on the ground next to her, having been placed while he was tending to Komako. An inch away. One movement, one sweep, one decision, and she would feel strong again. That was what Kenichi said, right? That was why they kept all those headbands, to remind themselves they had overcome their weakness and they could dominate the strong? Did that not make her powerful? Did that not make her free?

Her fist closed around the handle. It was cold against her palm and they didn’t even notice, didn’t even realise, until the suddenness of her movement alerted all of them at once. How wonderful it felt, to see their panicked faces. How _freeing_ , watching all these powerful people dive towards her, mouths open in a silent scream, arms reaching, desperate. _See?_ she thought to herself. _This is what weakness feels like. This is helplessness. Taste it now, and know my pain._

‘Miki, don’t!’ Takahiro cried, realising what she was about to do.

But Miki had made her mind up.

The sabre plunged into Komako’s side, pushing through her flesh like it was as soft as butter, spilling her blood. It splattered down her front, soaking the floor, trickling so quickly that Miki was morbidly curious at its speed. Her face didn’t betray a thing. It was like she hadn’t noticed at all.

‘No!’ Jiraiya shouted. He and Orochimaru lurched forward as if they had been electrocuted, but Sakumo got their first. He caught her wrist but the damage had already been done, the blade had already cut, the blood had already been spilled.

‘Drop it!’ he bellowed, twisting her arm. ‘Drop it, or I’ll kill you!’

‘I’m already dead,’ Miki spat, but she released the sabre. Its shining blade was coated in a sheath of blood, and suddenly, Sakumo had no desire to touch it. He spun around to Komako, wanting to do something, anything. Jiraiya was behind her, keeping her upright, his hand pressing against the gushing wound. _It’ll be fine. Tsunade is here. She’s a medical ninja. She’ll be able to…_

But then Sakumo saw the wound. He had seen enough in his twenty-two years to recognise when something was lethal. Tsunade did, too.

‘Tsu, keep calm, alright?’ Jiraiya said desperately, hating the feeling of Komako’s hot blood on his palm. ‘Just keep it together and start working on sealing the wound. Do that haemostatic jutsu thing, or something. I’ll hold her still.’ 

Tsunade didn’t move.

‘Tsunade? What are you doing? There’s no time to sit around!’ Jiraiya cried.

‘It’s pointless,’ Takahiro whispered. ‘That wound is too severe.’

‘Like hell it is,’ Jiraiya snarled. ‘Komako has that Uzumaki tenacity running through her veins. All she needs is a little bit of – wait. No! No!’

Komako wasn’t breathing. She hadn’t been for a few moments during Jiraiya’s touching assertion. Jiraiya swore under his breath, trying to stop the bleeding, sweat running down his forehead. He thought of his mother, of the woman he’d never met, and wondered if she’d looked like this during her final moments. Pale, confused, blood soaking her clothes. _Is this what death looks like?_

Tsunade blinked, slowly absorbing the scene before her. What had happened? Did Miki just stab her mother? Did she just gut her insides, spill her blood, and take her life? And what had she done? Just sat there, while Jiraiya held Komako in his arms? Tsunade shook her head. She was a medical ninja. It was her job to work under pressure.

She moved forward, her hands swathed in blue, but Orochimaru took her arm.

‘What?’ she murmured. ‘What are you doing, Oro? We don’t have time to waste. I need to heal her. I need to save her.’

Orochimaru looked at her, his eyes filled with a harrowing sadness. ‘Tsunade, she’s gone. You know that. Look at her.’

Tsunade turned her head, wondering if grief had a delayed reaction. _Oh. He’s right. She’s gone. Isn’t she_?

Jiraiya was snivelling, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. How could that have happened so quickly? It was like whiplash. It was almost comedic, in a sick and twisted sort of way. The daughter of the First Hokage dying in such a manner…it was inconceivable. It was wrong. Pure, cold-hearted wrong. _This can’t have happened._

Orochimaru kept his steady hand on Tsunade’s arm, wondering about the fallout. Would she lash out at Miki? Should he stop her? She had every right to take her life, given what had just happened. He knew that, should he ever find out what happened to his parents, he would take the life of every single person involved. _Does she have a vengeful heart like me?_

Sakumo, who was fighting back tears himself, looked at Tsunade. She still hadn’t reacted, but she was staring, staring at the corpse in Jiraiya’s trembling arms. _Hasn’t she realised what’s happened?_ Shock does strange things to the body, and shocking grief even more so. He understood that well enough. He’d lost friends and didn’t mourn until weeks later, when he was in a place of safety, surrounded by people who could care for him and hold him as he crumbled. A delayed emotional reaction. It was the mind’s way of protecting itself against the unbelievable. _And this is extraordinarily unbelievable for her._

Tsunade sat for what felt like an eternity, playing the episode over and over in her head. Her mother staring blankly at her, not knowing her…Miki reaching for that blade…the sound of impact…Jiraiya and Sakumo and Orochimaru immediately at her side, one way or another…and she, paralysed. Utterly paralysed.

But there was no denying the fact. Her mother was dead. And she was right in front of her.

‘No…no…’ Tsunade whispered. It couldn’t have happened. It couldn’t have. The blood pooling from Komako’s body had to be fake. It had to be a trick. Was she under a genjutsu? Was it Shion’s power going out of control? Had she been dosed with Fear-caps somehow? It couldn’t be real. Could it?

_‘Now, Tsuna, we’ve talked about this!’ Komako said, her hands on her hips. ‘If you keep agreeing to Jiraiya’s silly challenges, you’re going to hurt yourself!’_

_‘But this time it really was warranted!’ Tsunade protested, crossing her arms over her new Chuunin flak jacket. ‘He said I didn’t deserve my promotion if I couldn’t climb up Grandfather’s face on the mountain faster than he could, so obviously I had to show that buffoon while he’s still beneath me.’_

_‘And you took a chunk out of your poor Grandfather’s nose while you did it,’ Komako tutted. ‘And you scuffed up your face! I’m getting a bit tired of seeing new bruises all the times, sweetheart.’_

_‘That’s what being a Shinobi is all about! They’re like badges of honour!’_

_Komako sighed, shaking her head. There was no reasoning with her daughter. She was headstrong and irritable, proud and competitive, but truly, Komako would not change her for anything._

_‘Do I have to say it again, or will you?’ she said, raising her eyebrows._

_Tsunade pouted, averting her eyes._

_‘Tsuna.’_

_‘Egh, fine,’ Tsunade said. ‘There’s a time to rest and there’s a time to play.’_

_‘Exactly,’ Komako nodded. ‘And there’s no point in acquiring these so-called ‘badges of honour’ if all you’ve done is beat poor Jiraiya up the Hokage Monument and managed to damage it in the process.’_

_Tsunade mumbled something under her breath._

_‘What was that, Tsuna?’ Komako said sternly._

_‘I said I didn’t beat him,’ Tsunade admitted, stuffing her hands in her pockets. ‘He was just a tiny bit faster at climbing than me. But only by a fraction!’_

_Komako blinked at her daughter’s indignant expression, before she burst out laughing._

_‘It isn’t funny!’ Tsunade squawked._

_‘Oh, I’m sorry, I know,’ Komako chuckled, breathless. ‘It’s just I’d never imagine you’d lost to someone like young Jiraiya.’_

_‘I didn’t lose to him! I could beat him in literally anything else! Plus, he had a head-start! Plus, I got distracted because I felt bad about knocking that bit of rock out of Grandfather’s nose! There’s no way he’s better than me!’ Tsunade protested, waving her hands around her head._

_‘I know, I know,’ Komako said, wiping her eyes. ‘You’re not one to lose, Tsuna, I can tell that much. You get that from your Grand-Uncle. Now, come on – let’s go and collect Nawaki from the Academy. I don’t usually have the afternoon off, so it would be a nice surprise for him. And on the way, we can talk about your climbing technique, hm?’_

Tsunade, utterly overcome, gripped at Komako’s cold hand. How she wished she could hold it again. She couldn’t process it. Her mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening.

Miki struggled to register what had happened, too, even though she was the one who wielded the final blow. _Kenichi…Ren…they’re dead. They’re gone. They’re dead and gone and I’m never going to see them again_. Wailing, Miki collapsed to her knees, her face in her hands. Takahiro reached out to her, tears falling down his face, but she pushed him away from her.

‘No…no…’ she whispered. It couldn’t have happened. It couldn’t have. Her family was in ruins. Aki was gone, Takahiro had abandoned their cause and Ren and Kenichi were dead. She clutched at her chest, feeling as though her heart might truly split in two. No more mealtimes where she would chastise Ren for getting snow on the table, and young Aki would defend him vehemently because that’s the way she was. No more peaceful evenings when Kenichi would carefully help Takahiro shave his beard, barely saying a word, completely lost in concentration. No more nights when she and Kenichi would lie in each other’s arms, the headbands from all they had conquered hanging above their make-shift bed, giddily talking of their plans for their better world. No more lazy mornings when he would laugh at her ambition and call her _mad_ for everything she wanted. Perhaps she was mad. Perhaps she was mad to think they could be free in the Shinobi world.

And all at once, two young women, from opposite sides, grieved. Their backs were facing away from each other, but so close they could be touching, not an inch between them. Their heads were bent, hands in their faces, shoulders quivering and jerking from the suddenness of overwhelming, inexplicable sorrow. Their tears, which were so silent it was almost worthless to shed them at all, trailed down their cheeks along the same path. For a moment, it would be impossible to tell the difference between them. It was like a cruel joke was being played, like some tyrannous director had placed a mirror to fall between them, separating them from one of another, but reflecting the same image. Grief unites us in the cruellest of ways. To the onlooker, it was barely worth trying to distinguish them at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an absolute nightmare to write and I'm still not happy with the pacing, BUT I am happy that I've spared two of the enemy OCs...I think they'll be useful! Also I swear I don't enjoy torturing the Sannin but really, the parents are going to have to disappear at some point and this seemed like an appropriate moment. Still makes me sad, though :'(  
> This chapter is nearly 13,000 words. I think it would be best now (thanks to reader Michelle for the feedback!) to cut back on words and update more frequently. This is the last BIG chapter (she says, but we all know I'll end up writing another beefy one in the future), and there are four chapters left of this arc. After that, w'ell be heading into PART THREE: THE SECOND SHINOBI WAR, so there's all that tragedy to look forward to I guess??? But fear not, there will be some Sannin softness and wholesomeness coming soon. We need a break from all the angst.  
> ALSO Takahiro's line 'there isn't any shame in looking for a better world' is a near-direct copy of the quote of Rockstar's absolute masterpiece, Red Dead Redemption 2. I'm a big gamer, and the quote 'one thing I do know is...there ain't no shame in looking for a better world' really stuck with me, so I wanted to feature it somehow. But, naturally, I don't claim it as my own! Anyone here a gamer/interested in games in general?  
> Anywho, many thanks for reading. Keep well and stay safe xo


	21. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru is inspired, Jiraiya and Tsunade are reprimanded, and Danzo begins to scheme.
> 
> (Featuring a line from Andrzeji Sapkowski's 'The Witcher' book series. See more in notes to avoid spoilers)

Chapter 21 – The Aftermath

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

The journey back to Konoha was the longest of their lives. Sakumo was charged with overseeing Takahiro and Miki, whose hands were bound, but they were silent. Jiraiya had the very morbid job of carrying Komako’s body. It was wordlessly agreed that she be buried with Jun in the forest, along with Noriko and Touta, in a marked grave they could easily return to. Once they’d reached Konoha, they would send the appropriate parties to retrieve their bodies so they could have an official burial.

Before they’d left, Orochimaru and Sakumo had explored the caves. In part, it was to give Tsunade a chance to calm down and process everything, as well as allow them to have a sweep for any remaining enemies. Whatsmore, Sakumo wanted to at least see if there was any trace of Takahiro’s daughter, Aki. While he searched, Orochimaru examined various chambers.

The chamber where Takahiro did most of his work was packed with complex and strange looking equipment, jars full of strange, viscous liquids, and stacks of notes splattered with ink and the odd drop of blood. Orochimaru prowled the chamber cautiously, his long, pale fingers tracing over the main work bench. He glanced over the papers and realised instantly that Takahiro was investigating what made the Sharingan tick. _The Sharingan uses a complex chakra network, one that links the optic nerves to the amygdala. It is the centre of emotion, learning, and memory, and a part of the system that processes reflexive emotions, such as fear and anxiety._ Orochimaru felt a wild urge to study all of the notes, wondering how far Takahiro had gotten, but he knew there wasn’t the time. It would be safer to seal off the cave for the time being, he supposed, and maybe return there for further research.

He continued his journey, weaving in and out of the machines and equipment. Some of it was still live, its cogs whirring and clicking. Quite without realising, Orochimaru found himself smiling slightly. It was fascinating. He’d never seen equipment quite like it, even in Konoha’s (admittedly meagre) research facility. He guessed that Takahiro had probably made it all himself for the purpose of specific experimentation, and he found it oddly intriguing. How far could one push this, push a Shinobi, to reveal their genetic secrets? It was a question he never thought he’d had to consider, but seeing Takahiro’s work laid out in front of him triggered a strange, exciting interest in his heart. What secrets could be unlocked by studying genetics? Could such research be linked to developing new jutsu? He had already seen first hand that kekkei genkai could be transplanted into another host. The possibilities were limitless, if one had the right sort of mind.

As he carried on searching, half looking for Aki and half trying to absorb all the information before him, he came to a large, glowing tank. He gasped. A body was suspended in it – a Shinobi from Kumogakure, judging by his complexion. He was clearly dead; it seemed that the tank was to keep his body in a good condition. Orochimaru squinted closer and saw the words _storm release_ written on a label. He guessed at once that the Inoshishi were trying to draw that particular kekkei genkai into the light, and in the process, the man had died. Keeping his body suspended somewhere ‘fresh’, he supposed, was their best bet. Interesting. He had no idea bodies could be maintained in such a way. He wondered if Takahiro had ever worked on combining certain elemental releases, perhaps unlocking a new potential for a different kind of jutsu. Could one develop such advanced techniques? It was hard to say. _But,_ Orochimaru thought, _to become powerful enough to protect the ones I hold dear, I must acquire all sorts of jutsu – perhaps even develop my own._ He shook his head, sighing to himself. He didn’t have the know-how for such things. But he couldn’t deny that the possibility had piqued his interest.

He heard a groan from down the corridor. It was drawn out and low, too low to belong to Aki. Cautiously, his hand hovered above the pouch of shuriken on his leg, but he doubted any stragglers would have been foolish enough to stay. He held his breath, braving the next chamber. He found himself pretty much back where they had started – close to the chamber where Komako had fallen. But the room he found himself in was the nook located to the side of the main chamber, where Shion had been previously chained up. Wrinkling his nose against the smell of blood and bodily odours, Orochimaru realised he was back in the prison chamber.

The groan in question was coming from one the hostages, who was chained the wall, blood tripping from his temple. Orochimaru eyed them all coolly. None of them were from Konoha, that much was obvious, but all were captured for the same purpose: kekkei genkai. If they had arrived later, he imagined more of them would have had their DNA isolated and examined. As it stood, while they were clearly in pain and under the influence of the Fear-caps, they were relatively healthy. _What should we do with them?_

If it was just up to him, Orochimaru probably would have killed them. They were vulnerable, and most importantly, the enemy. Enemies from the other Shinobi Villages were the most threatening of all. But, and he accepted it, Sakumo Hatake was superior to him. It was wisest to let him make the decision. Sighing to himself, Orochimaru cast his eyes over the chained prisoners. Their brows were furrowed in anguish. He wondered what they were seeing under the Fear-caps; if they were anything like Komako, it would likely be something horrendous happening to his families. _What would I see?_ he thought. _I have no family left. Would I still feel pain to see them tortured, even though they’ve gone?_

His mind went back to Tsunade crouching over her mother’s body, silent tears racking through her like electricity. He had never seen such evident pain before. He could guess that her biggest fear was anything happening to her precious family, and wondered what it was like to experience it for real. As for Jiraiya…well, he couldn’t really say. There was Benjiro, his father, but Orochimaru had a sneaking suspicion that Jiraiya saw something else when he was under the Fear-caps’ deadly illusions. Getting him to share that, though, was like drawing blood from a stone. He was like Tsunade – he didn’t like to show ‘weakness’. Orochimaru didn’t think there was anything at all weak about sharing grief, but he supposed he was a more linear thinker than his teammates. Tsunade had been weaned on the idea that emotions were akin to weakness (no doubt thanks to her father), and Jiraiya did everything possible to protect himself from further scorn. It made sense. He just wished it wasn’t so. In fact, he wished he could feel more.

He headed back into the chamber where everyone was gathered, leaving the prisoners in their chains. His eyes scanned over to where Tsunade was slumped against the wall, her head titled towards the dark ceiling. Jiraiya was next to her, holding her hand. Quite unexpectedly, a flare of something he could only describe as jealousy crept up from his chest. He shook his head. It was not the time to feel something as immature as _jealousy_ , especially after what had just happened. Tsunade needed all the support she could get, and Jiraiya, the teddy-bear he was, was a much better candidate than he. _Wait,_ Orochimaru thought, _did I just liken Jiraiya to a teddy-bear?_ He was glad no one could see the blush that spread across his face.

‘Hatake,’ he said, hastily heading over, ‘I found no sign of the girl. But I did find the other prisoners they’d taken – they’re all alive, though in a bad shape.’

Sakumo nodded gravely. ‘Not surprising. They didn’t exactly treat our lot with careful consideration. Where are they?’

‘The chamber next to us,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘At least the enemy were organised – they kept them all in one place, unless they were experimenting. What do you suppose we should do?’

Sakumo let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He still hadn’t touched the sabre that had slain Komako. He didn’t want to. It was sticky with her blood and he couldn’t help but feel that, if he hadn’t had put it within Miki’s reach, Komako might still be alive. He gritted his teeth. How could he have been so stupid? It was like muscle memory, sheathing the sword on his back. So why hadn’t he done it when it mattered most? _Goddammit_ , he thought, his fists tightening the strands of his hair. _You fool, Sakumo. You damn fool._

‘Er, Hatake?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘Hm?’

‘I asked about what we should do with the prisoners,’ Orochimaru said, noticing the man was preoccupied. ‘Technically speaking, you’re the only Shinobi on active duty, since the three of us defied orders. It should, therefore, be your call.’

Sakumo chuckled, though it was without humour. ‘Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. The Third is _not_ going to be happy with you lot.’

Orochimaru bowed his head. Danzo wouldn’t, either. He felt Sakumo clap him on the back.

‘Hey, no worries,’ he said, his voice light. ‘Between you and I, I can’t say I would have acted differently. You supported your teammate when she needed it – that, to me, is more important than any orders.’

‘Disobeying orders doesn’t exactly uphold the Village, though.’

‘I guess that’s true, in part,’ Sakumo shrugged. ‘I don’t know about you, kid, but I’d much rather fight for Village that values its people more than its orders. Besides, the secret to being a good Shinobi _isn’t_ how well you follow orders. It’s about finding someone you want to protect, and damn the orders.’

Orochimaru’s eyes widened as he remembered hearing those words once before from Hiruzen. It was when he had found that snake skin by his parents’ grave, and Hiruzen had imparted some words of wisdom. Though he’d conveniently left off the ‘damn the orders’ part.

‘Anyway,’ Sakumo said, ‘we ought to get a move on. That Hyuga kid isn’t looking too good, and I doubt Princess Tsunade is in the right frame of mind to heal him.’

‘She hates that nickname, you know,’ Orochimaru said. He was so used to saying it on instinct that he was hardly surprised at himself – though Sakumo looked fairly taken-aback.

‘My bad,’ he said. ‘I’ll remember that next time.’

‘What of the prisoners?’ Orochimaru repeated.

‘Ah, yeah,’ Sakumo said. ‘Honestly, releasing a bunch of enemy Shinobi kidnapped _because_ of their immense power isn’t exactly a good move, especially given the current climate.’

‘You mean Kagero Village?’

‘Yes,’ Sakumo nodded. ‘If I was in the prisoner’s shoes and I saw that Konoha was weakened, I would definitely think to strike. But leaving them seems rather cold-hearted, don’t you think?’

Orochimaru shrugged. ‘I think rescuing them is up to their respective Kages.’

‘They’ll probably be left to rot, then,’ Sakumo replied gravely. ‘I mean, the Third hardly seemed thrilled about stretching our forces to look for the missing Shinobi in the first place.’

‘It’s your call, Hatake,’ Orochimaru said. He wasn’t usually one for shying away from responsibility, but Sakumo was seven years his senior and therefore had more experience.

‘Well,’ Sakumo said, stretching his arms out, ‘it _would_ be bad form to leave them. It would heighten tensions between the Great Nations, but at the same time…Konoha is not in its fittest state. The war with Kagero has put pressure on us, leaving us vulnerable for assault. Freeing numerous enemy Shinobi gifted with kekkei genkai just seems foolish.’

‘Do you want me to kill them, then?’

Sakumo raised his eyebrows. Was the boy next to him really 15 years old? He seemed a lot tougher behind the eyes than most teenagers, and he certainly had the skill to back up his robustness.

‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ Sakumo said. ‘Besides, such is an act of war. They’ll die anyway without attention, but at least it allows a chance of discovery from their respective Villages. And if their Kages don’t send anyone out looking for them, they clearly aren’t worth the trouble.’

‘Understood,’ Orochimaru nodded. Then, he frowned, processing Sakumo’s words. ‘Can I ask you something, Hatake?’

‘Sure.’

‘What you just said, about them not being worth the trouble,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Do you think that sentiment applies to our Hokage? He begrudgingly sent Komako after Hiromichi and Fumihiro, and then ultimately didn’t want to send anyone after her and her team when they failed to communicate. Do you think he thought them…worthless?’

Sakumo paused for thought. No, he absolutely did not think Hiruzen believed them worthless. Even if Hiromichi and Fumihiro were from average clans, and even if Komako wasn’t the First Hokage’s daughter, he believed he’d send as many people as it took. But he was paralysed by the war with Kagero, and with the cold-hearted advice from his own advisors – namely Danzo.

‘I think Lord Third would have acted exactly as Tsunade did,’ he said finally. ‘But only if he wasn’t the Hokage.’

‘Does becoming the Hokage allow you to judge the value of one’s life, then?’

‘In a way, yes,’ Sakumo murmured. ‘Hiruzen was forced to weight lives up against each other. Should he risk more Shinobi for the sake of a few? Should he let his personal feelings about being a friend of the Senju family cloud his decision? He knew that Komako’s failure to communicate meant the enemy would be hard to handle. He probably would have risked anything to save her and her team, along with the two boys, but the feasibility wasn’t there. At least, not when you wear the Hokage’s hat.’

Orochimaru was quiet for a moment. ‘That’s a terrible position to be in.’

‘Indeed,’ Sakumo sighed. ‘But the Hokage’s duty is to the whole Village. Hiruzen can’t protect everyone – he thought he could when he took on the role, but with time and experience, it became clear to him that such a noble act is impossible. Not in this world.’

‘That sounds like what the Inoshishi believe.’

‘They weren’t wrong to dream,’ Sakumo said. ‘Though they dreamed a dream built on bloodshed. That’s where they went wrong. Regardless, to answer your question, Orochimaru, I do not believe the Third thought them worthless. He simply had to pick the lesser of two evils. That’s why I’d struggle to do his job.’

‘What do you mean?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘If it’s the lesser of two evils, I’d rather not chose at all.’

Orochimaru absorbed his words. His knee-jerk reaction was that such a sentiment screamed weakness, weakness he didn’t associate with the famed White Fang. But, after a moment, he realised it was a strength. Sakumo worked so he could avoid evil at all costs, whatever its form. That was the better path.

*

When they returned to Konoha, no one was there to greet them at the gates. It was probably a blessing in disguise – Tsunade certainly didn’t want to face anyone, and Fumihiro’s missing eye was looking worse by the day. They had patched it up as best they could, but Tsunade had concluded that it would succumb to serious infection if it wasn’t treated properly. Orochimaru took Shion, Hiromichi and Fumihiro to the Hospital, but before he could leave, Shion turned back. Slowly, she walked up to Tsunade. She held her hands and took Tsunade’s in hers, holding them tightly.

‘Tsunade,’ Shion said, her voice sincere and wavering with every word, ‘I am truly sorry for your loss. And…thanks for coming to get me back there. A lot of people in this Village would have left me behind. I’m a liability, after all.’

Tsunade didn’t have the emotional capacity to smile, but she squeezed Shion’s hands back. ‘You’re not a liability - you’re a human being. Besides, your clan’s curse can be controlled with careful medication and supervision, but that won’t happen here. Go with Oro. He’ll make sure you get there safely.’

Shion nodded. ‘Listen…I know it’s not an appropriate occasion, but – well, oddly, it was nice. Being with all of you on the journey back.’

She looked around at Jiraiya, Sakumo, Orochimaru, Hiromichi, and Fumihiro. She bowed her head and mustered a smile. ‘Thank you for looking after me. I know the reason for us being here is grave, and it feels unsuitable to say, but…it almost felt like having friends.’

Tsunade lifted Shion’s chin up. ‘We are your friends. I mean, I am, at least. I see you enough at the Hospital, right?’

Shion nodded.

‘Then stop feeling sorry for yourself, hm?’ Tsunade said, her tone gentle. ‘I’ll come and see you. And hey, if we ask Biwako really nicely, you can come out more often. I know enough now to keep that troublesome genjutsu of yours under control – and, if we’re lucky, we might even start to harness it. How does that sound?’

Shion’s eyes lit up. ‘That – that would be amazing!’

‘We could take you to my favourite barbecue place!’ Jiraiya grinned, upbeat as usual.

‘And, to be honest, I’d love the opportunity to study your gift,’ Orochimaru said, avoiding the word ‘curse’. ‘The Kurama Clan’s ability for genjutsu is quite exceptional, out of control or not. It would be worth it for the pair of us, I’m sure.’

‘You mean it?’ Shion asked.

‘Of course we do,’ Tsunade said. ‘But that won’t happen until you go back to Biwako and the Hospital and make sure you don’t end up accidentally killing someone with your mind, alright?’

‘Swings and roundabouts, eh?’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Shion said. ‘I’m almost looking forward to it. Being shut away at the Hospital is one thing, but being locked in chains and…’ she trailed off, wincing.

Tsunade put her hand on her shoulder. ‘I know. Now, get going. I’ll come see you at some point. You can be sure of that.’

As Orochimaru led the three of them away, holding Fumihiro’s arms for the added support, Jiraiya couldn’t help but be a little amazed at Tsunade. Despite everything that had happened, despite her pain, she mustered the ability to comfort someone else. Shion Rosh was a difficult case, and he knew she was aware of that. Most people would run a mile. But not Tsunade. _It’s not in her nature to avoid the misfits, though_ , he thought. _After all, Oro and I aren’t exactly clean-cut._

‘Well,’ Sakumo said, looking down at Miki and Takahiro. ‘I suppose I’d best get these two somewhere more secure in case they try anything.’

‘If we were going to, we would have done so by now,’ Miki spat, glowering at him. Despite her own grief, she was still able to hold onto her venomous streak. ‘What are you going to do? Torture us?’

‘Unless you have valuable information, such acts won’t be necessary,’ Sakumo said. ‘Despite what you think of us, Miki of the Inoshishi, we are not barbarians. In fact, we can be quite civil. If you stay on our good side.’ He last words were laced with threat, but it was so subtle and carefully placed that it was barely noticeable.

Miki felt silent, pressing her lips together. Sakumo sighed down at her. A part of him felt sorry for her and Takahiro. After all, their dreams had been shattered and their friends were dead. It wasn’t exactly a sough-after position. He hoped Hiruzen would deem to treat them well enough, but he feared what would happen if Danzo got his hands on them.

‘You two best get off home,’ he said, looking back at Jiraiya and Tsunade. Both of them were looking exhausted, their eyes puffy with tiredness and grief, and they were nursing injuries from the battles.

‘Don’t we need to report to Sarutobi-sensei?’ Jiraiya asked.

Sakumo waved his hand in the air. ‘I’ll do that once I’ve dropped these two off. Besides, you deserve rest. I’ll be sure to let Orochimaru off duty, too, so don’t worry about him.’

‘Are you sure, Sakumo?’ Tsunade asked, her voice small. ‘We dragged you into enough trouble – I’d feel even worse if we left you with all the paperwork.’

Sakumo laughed and shook his head. ‘Such is my role, P – I mean, Tsunade. And anyway, I rather think you have enough to worry about right now.’

Tsunade’s face fell. Of course. When she returned home, she’d have to break the news to her family.

‘I’ll get Lord Third to check in with Hiromichi and Fumihiro too, when they’re well enough. They would have discovered more about the enemy, being in their hands for so long,’ Sakumo said. ‘But I’ll warn you, you will have to speak to Lord Third at some point. I can’t shield you for long.’

Jiraiya audibly gulped. ‘Yikes. Yeah. That won’t be pretty.’

‘I’ll tell him to go easy on you,’ Sakumo said sincerely. ‘Take care, you two. Get home safely.’

He waved to them as he left, leading Takahiro and Miki along with him. The sabre was finally in place on his back, but it felt heavier than it used to, almost as though it was weighed down by what had happened. Sakumo tried not think about it as the handle nudged his neck. _It wasn’t your fault. Sword or no sword, that woman was enraged enough to kill. Right?_

As they watched him go, Jiraiya turned to Tsunade. He opened his mouth to say something, but she started walking away before he could. He held out his hand, as if to grab her arm and turn her back, but something stopped him. It was not the time for words. She would find little comfort in them, anyway. Sighing, Jiraiya stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky. It was getting dark and there was an obvious chill in the air. The coldness stung against the swellings on his face, and he winced, wishing he’d at least asked Tsunade to soothe them for him. But, as Sakumo had said, such trivial things were the least of her worries.

Jiraiya cracked his neck and turned the down the familiar path home. Would Benjiro be angry at him, he wondered? He had been gone for several days given the journey, and he certainly hadn’t followed Hiruzen’s orders as instructed. Any parent would be annoyed at such obvious insolence, he was sure of it. But, as it happened, when he opened the door and quietly mustered a half-hearted _I’m home_ , there was no trace of anger on Benjiro’s face. Only relief.

‘Jiraiya?’ he gasped, nearly tripping over his slippers. ‘Oh, thank goodness. When you and Orochimaru didn’t contact Lord Third, I – I truly feared – but that isn’t important right now. Are you okay? You’re hurt!’

Jiraiya was frozen in surprise at Benjiro’s reaction. He led him to the kitchen, jabbering on all the while – _I mean, I can’t believe that young Tsunade had the gall to disobey the Hokage like that_ – _the whole Village was having kittens, kittens I tell you – Lord Third was seething, too – I heard they dispatched Sakumo Hatake himself, you know – oh, but Jiraiya, what on earth happened?!_ Jiraiya just made listening noises as Benjiro fused about him, sitting him down at the kitchen table. It was warm. The hearth was lit and he could smell something cooking (well, burning was the right word given Benjiro’s poor cooking prowess, but he didn’t want to comment).

He barely moved when Benjiro eased his flak jacket off his shoulders for him, still talking and talking. In a way, it was a comfort. He watched as Benjiro fling it over the other chair – _this needs a damn good wash_ – and he flinched when he saw blood stained down the front. Komako’s blood. His arms felt heavy, like he was still carrying her from that cave. There was dirt under his fingernails from where he’d helped dig a shallow grave, enough to protect her and the others from the elements until their bodies were collected. He remembered their faces. Touta and Noriko, the two Chuunin, were waxy and paper-thin, decay settling into their bones like damp rot. Jun’s stomach wound was a feast for the maggots, his blood tar-black. And Komako, her face was the worst. It was shocked and slumped and so far away from what they were used to it was like she wasn’t herself at all.

Jiraiya clenched his fists, barely noticing when Benjiro approached him, wet rag in hand. _Oh, yeah. I didn’t even wash off the blood, did I?_

‘Come here, son,’ Benjiro said, leaning closer and wiping at some of the dried blood encrusted on Jiraiya’s forehead. He carefully untied the forehead protector and it settled on the table with a clink. ‘Blimey, there’s quite the welt here. Did you bump your head?’

Jiraiya winced as Benjiro pressed the cool dampness to the bruise, remembering when he cracked his skull against Kenichi’s. There were bruises on his neck from Kenichi’s steel fingers, but his high collar covered them well enough. It was a good thing. He didn’t want to go into details.

‘I…yeah, I did,’ Jiraiya murmured, looking past Benjiro’s concerned face and settling on the doorframe. It was like a reset point for him, something he could cite to calm his emotions. Notches were carved into the wood, indicating his growth. He found himself wishing he was 6 again, fresh out of the Academy and eager to please. No blood on his hands.

Benjiro’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t like his son to be so quiet. ‘Jiraiya, what’s the matter? What’s happened?’

What’s happened? Everything happened. The argument between Tsunade and Orochimaru, the illusion he saw under the Fear-caps, Fumihiro’s tortured cries, the battle with Kenichi, and Komako’s demise. It was too much. Being home in the warmth, in a place of safety, and being greeted by his loving father, was all too much.

‘I – we -’ Jiraiya stammered, the realisation of what had happened crashing over him in one suffocating wave.

Benjiro, alarmed, abandoned the rag. He had never seen him like that. So lost for words, his eyes panicked, barely catching his breath. He dragged the other chair over to face him and placed his hands on his shoulders. Jiraiya was shaking, he could feel it, though it wasn’t cold.

‘Easy, son,’ Benjiro soothed. ‘You don’t have to talk about it just yet. You’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me.’

Jiraiya took a deep, shuddering breath, his throat tightening. ‘But…we – we failed. Pa, we failed.’

His voice shook and broke and Benjiro blinked at him, not understanding.

‘Failed?’ he repeated. ‘Wait – oh, don’t tell me you didn’t bring Tsunade back? Is she okay? Is she hurt?’

‘She’s fine. Both her and Oro are fine,’ Jiraiya whispered. ‘But we…Oro and I, we…it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Komako…died. She died, Pa. She died.’

Benjiro took a moment to process his son’s trembling words, before he gasped, his hand over his mouth. But there was not the time for his shock, nor his grief, because Jiraiya started to crumble. It was like saying the words _Komako died_ had broken the dam like an explosive catalyst, and everything Jiraiya had been holding in for Tsunade’s sake came pouring out.

‘She – we couldn’t save her and there was nothing we could do and she died right in front of us and I had to – I had to – I carried her in my arms and she – she was so cold and heavy and _empty_ and -’ Jiraiya broke off, unable to say any more. His chest hurt. It was like a rubber band was squeezing around his throat, choking him and rendering him useless to resist. Tears appeared in his eyes and he gritted his teeth, hating the feeling of breaking.

Wordlessly, Benjiro pulled him against his chest and hugged him. Jiraiya’s hands balled up the fabric of his shirt as he clung on to him, as if his life depended on it, sobs rattling his body. Benjiro held him tightly, his lower lip wobbling. His mind was whirring – Komako, the kind-hearted and powerful daughter of the First Hokage, Head of the Senju family, and Sensei to countless fledgling Shinobi, dead? How? He knew it was not the time to ask. Not when Jiraiya seemed incapable of stringing two words together.

He held him for as long as he needed. It felt strange; the last time he had hugged him while he cried was when he was boy. But the person in his arms was no longer a boy – his frame was large and he had grown so tall that the notches on the door seemed ridiculous, for imagining him small was inconceivable. When did that happen? When did Jiraiya grow so big? Benjiro shook his head, holding him tightly. It didn’t matter. Boy or adult, he was his son. And he was going to be there for him.

*

Tsunade stared at the door to the Senju wing of the Mansion. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, her hand poised above the door handle, but it was long enough to acutely notice the space left by Jun. As he was assigned to guarding the wing, he was usually there to greet her, leaning against the wall with his easy smile and goofy wave. In his place was emptiness. Tsunade swallowed thickly. _It isn’t my place to tell them about him. Not until his own family know first. I’ll wait for Sarutobi-sensei to break the news._

It was dark in the corridor and warm, yellow light seeped from the crack under the door. She could hear Nawaki’s squeaky little laugh from inside and the soft tones of Mito’s voice, likely entertaining him. The smell of baking wafted through the corridor and rinsed over her like a gentle caress. The sounds and smells of familiarity were intoxicating, and in her exhaustion, she wanted nothing more than to throw the door open and step inside. But Tsunade, for the first time in her life, felt like an intruder in her own home. She was the shadow casting over a pleasant family scene, the bringer of bad news, a happiness-stealing phantom that ruined the peace. How could she tell Nawaki? No eleven-year-old need hear their mother is dead. _And I was powerless to stop it_.

‘Tsuna?’

Tsunade’s hand tightened around the doorhandle as she heard her father’s voice behind her. She turned. He was in his Shinobi uniform, likely returning from duty, and he had an expression on his face that she seldom saw – relief.

‘You’re back,’ he said. ‘I was worried. We all were.’

Tsunade sniffed hard, mortified as tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. If there was one thing that irritated her father to no end, it was crying. She blinked them away, swallowing a lump in her throat.

‘I’m sorry’ she managed.

Taichi moved towards her, a frown on his scarred face. ‘Why aren’t you going in?’

Her knuckles turned white around the handle. ‘I can’t.’

‘Whyever not? It’s not locked, it is? Mito and Nawaki should be in,’ he replied.

Tsunade couldn’t look at him, couldn’t tell him. If Taichi had a redeeming quality, it was his love for Komako. He was harsh to her about wood release, that much was true, but he always succumbed to her and sought her forgiveness. She was his light, even more so than his own children. He knew she had her pick of the bunch, being the Hokage’s daughter and as beautiful as she was, but she settled for him. _I didn’t settle,_ she would say. _I chose you_. Tsunade feared his reaction. He was cold and cruel at the best of times, only ever smiling when Komako was in the room, and to tell her she was gone would be the final blow. Time had changed Taichi for the worst. But Tsunade always hoped that his love for Komako might outweigh his resentment. Might return things to the way they were. But it was too late.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and flinched. She wasn’t much used to an affectionate touch from him, and it caught her by surprise. _He really must be relieved to see me._

‘Tsunade,’ he said, his voice soft, ‘what’s the matter? Your face is all marked up.’

Tsunade tried not to roll her eyes at the irony. Did he forget that he’d split her lip once? They were training, that was true enough, but his concern for her seemed jarring and misplaced.

‘I…got into a fight,’ she said.

‘Well, that is hardly surprising. You did run away by yourself. You were bound to encounter trouble,’ Taichi sighed. ‘I’m happy to see you back in one piece. You worried me, Tsuna.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Tsunade repeated, bowing her head.

‘It is alright,’ Taichi said. ‘I know why you did it – why, I practically had to hold Mito back, she was so keen on pursuing you. But you’re back _now_. That’s what counts. She’ll be very pleased to see you.’

Tsunade pressed her lips together. ‘I don’t think she will.’

Taichi frowned again, lowering his hand from his shoulder. He had seen his daughter in all sorts of emotional states, many by his own unrelenting hand, but _defeated_ was not one of them. Even he reprimanded her, even when she failed, there was still a fire in her eyes that screamed _I’m not going to lose to the likes of you_. But she seemed devoid of anything, like the colour had been stripped away.

‘What are you talking about?’ Taichi asked.

Tsunade felt for her necklace, clutching the cold pendant between her fingers. The crystal cut almost painfully into her palm, but she needed something to hold on to. Something to ground her. Something to remind her it was real, that it happened. That Komako would not be coming through the door. She couldn’t look at him. But she managed the words. ‘Mother didn’t make it.’

Taichi took a step away from her, as though she had just threatened to strike him. His body spasmed and Tsunade jerked away from him by instinct, but she felt nothing. Taichi’s sudden movement was to turn away from her, hiding his face.

‘I…I see,’ he said. His voice was thick. If Tsunade didn’t know any better, she might have sworn he was crying.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ Tsunade stammered. She almost wished he’d lash out, because seeing him turn his back on her was far more disconcerting.

Taichi stiffened. ‘Get inside, Tsuna. I wish not to speak with you right now.’

‘Aren’t you -’

‘– no,’ Taichi interrupted, his voice trembling. ‘I can’t bear to see anyone of you at the moment. Not when…’

_Not when you look like her._

‘Get out of my sight,’ he continued, his fists clenched.

Tsunade, deciding now was not the time to point out she technically _wasn’t_ in his sight since his back was turned, obeyed his order. She opened the door, wanting to say something to him. But her mind was blank. She wondered, with a pang, when it had become so difficult to talk to her own father. The time he’d cried when no one showed up to her fifth birthday party seemed like a lifetime ago. It sounds cliched to say someone has been ‘broken’, but she was certain that, somewhere along the way, Taichi had been broken beyond repair. Perhaps that is what happens to all Shinobi who succumb to bitterness and heartbreak.

The warmth hit her face as she went inside, closing the door behind her. She thought she might have heard a soft sob from the other side. But she left him alone.

Mito practically dropped the freshly baked bread she was holding when she saw Tsunade come through the door.

‘Tsuna!’ she gasped. But before she could do anything else, there was a blur and Tsunade stumbled, small arms clutching her around her middle.

‘Big sis!’ Nawaki cried, squeezing her so hard she winced. ‘Where have you _been_? I had to start drawing MISSING posters of you, and you know I can’t draw! Don’t look at them – Sarutobi thinks you’d be insulted. I’ve even been under house arrest because Grandmother was convinced I’d try and come after you – which I was totally ready for, bag packed and everything – and then even Jiraiya and Oro – wait. Wait a second, are you crying?’

Tsunade couldn’t help it. Seeing his bright smile and rosy cheeks had shattered her heart, since she knew the bad news she’d have to break. And seeing Mito, with her red hair exactly like Komako’s, her eyes wide and concerned, finished her off. She clutched Nawaki to her and held him tight, tears streaming down her face.

‘Sis? What’s up, huh? You’re getting snot all over me!’ Nawaki grimaced, overdramatic as ever.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tsunade whispered, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d apologised that evening. She feared it would never be enough.

‘Give her some space, Nawaki,’ Mito said gently.

‘She’s the one holding onto me!’

Tsunade didn’t want to let go. He was warm, small for his age. She settled to her knees and kept him close, her arms around his neck. Nawaki didn’t really know what to do. Tsunade had never cried in front of him before, least of all while hugging him. Awkwardly, he stretched up and patted her head.

‘There, there,’ he frowned, trying to remember how Mito would comfort him when he was upset.

‘I – I need to tell you both something,’ Tsunade choked, her voice muffled as it pressed into Nawaki’s shoulder. ‘But I…I really, really don’t want to.’

She heard Mito move closer to them and felt her hand on her arm, drawing her away from Nawaki’s little form.

‘Easy, Tsuna,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll suffocate the poor boy if you’re not careful.’

Tsunade let out a weak laugh, letting him go. ‘Sorry, Nawaki. I’m just happy to see you.’

Nawaki rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. ‘Aw, it’s okay. It’s nice to be greeted so warmly! But…but not so nice when you’re being all gross and snotty. What’s up?’

Looking back on all the things that had happened in her life, Tsunade could easily point out difficult experiences. There were too many to name and too many to dwell on. She only had room left in her wounded heart for the worst, the ones scored on her mind for all time. But having to look up at Nawaki, her vision blurred through her tears, and tell him what had happened to Komako, was what she would cite as the hardest. Despite it all, despite everything she had already lost – as well as what she would come to lose – telling her brother their mother would never come home was the most haunting of all.

Mito cradled Nawaki as he screamed the house down, his grief too overwhelming for him to contain. She, on the other hand, was silent in hers. Tears streamed down her face but she did not falter. She did not utter a sound. She held her grandson and he wept into her lap, his hands flailing in a near-tantrum, kicking his feet against the floorboards and gasping for breath.

She did not think of what she had lost in that moment. Her firstborn, her only daughter. Her only _child._ She did not think of that. Not that it was a crime for a parent to lower their child into the grave, to outlive them, to fail to see them flourish. Not that she embodied everything her late husband stood for, nor that she had the biggest heart in the whole of Konoha. Not that she could no longer hold her, counsel her, thread her red hair between her fingers. Not that her daughter had been a happy little girl, always beaming up at her parents with great pride. Not that she never buckled under the pressure of the Senju name, nor that she dwelled on it for too long on her failures. Not that she loved her with everything she had. Like a mother does. She thought of none of those things. She merely held her grandson and helped him through his grief.

Tsunade looked at them, her Grandmother and her brother. She didn’t know what to say to make it better. She didn’t even know how to make _herself_ better. But when Mito held her arms open to her, inviting her into the grief-stricken embrace, she wondered if it was a good start. Comfort can be found in the most troublesome of times, even if it takes a while to feel. As Mito wrapped her arms around them both, Nawaki snivelling into Tsunade’s shoulder, Tsunade was struck with a paradoxical feeling. Her heart might break, it was true, but she was home. She was safe. She would heal, with them, her family. The warmth of the home she’d lived in all her life overwhelmed her, and she was overcome with exhaustion. But one thought resonated in her mind: _this is what’s left of my family. I won’t let anything happen to them._

*

When Orochimaru arrived home, only emptiness awaited him. It was dark. He dropped his bag on the floor and found himself sinking into the rug, his fingers knotting the thick coils. It was dusty and he coughed against it. It was cold. But, in a strange sort of way, he relished the loneliness. At least that way no one would see him cry.

*

A few days passed before Hiruzen was eying Tsunade and Jiraiya over the arch of his hands. He had already spoken with – and harshly reprimanded – Orochimaru for his part in defying direct orders. He was trying to find the right time to speak to Tsunade and Jiraiya, given recent events, but he soon decided there was no such thing as the ‘right time’ when it came to disciplinary action. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

‘It brings me no pleasure to speak of troublesome affairs after everything you’ve both been through,’ he began, ‘but there are things that must be addressed.’

Tsunade and Jiraiya both nodded, hands behind their backs, eyes on the floor. Hiruzen was rather taken-a-back. He had never seen the boisterous pair so despondent before. Though it was hardly surprising. Orochimaru, along with Hiromichi and Shion (Fumihiro was still too injured to do talking of any kind), and given him a full report. Sakumo explained his role too, but considering his orders were to follow the three of them and help, he was only there for a portion of the mission. Hiruzen, therefore, had a good idea about the series of events and what had transpired. He knew Jiraiya – thanks to Hiromichi – had fought well and even tried to spare his enemy. He also knew that Komako had died right in front of them. He had no doubt that Jiraiya was feeling guilty for not being able to save his enemy, and that Tsunade, naturally, would be consumed by her mother’s death. It was not an easy mission to discuss.

Opening his eyes, he let out another sigh. ‘Let it be known that I am speaking to you as your Hokage, and not as your sensei. It is not my intention to sound harsh, under the circumstances, but I can’t ignore what transpired. I’ve no doubt you both already know where you went wrong, but be that as it may, I have a duty as the Hokage to address it. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ Jiraiya mumbled. Tsunade just nodded, as if she lacked the energy to speak.

‘Very well,’ Hiruzen said, turning his attention to Jiraiya. ‘Listen up. I know, compared to Orochimaru and Tsunade, that _you_ , Jiraiya, are the least likely to heed my warnings and my words. But I gave you very, _very_ strict orders: bring Tsunade back before she interferes.’

Jiraiya scuffed his sandals on the floor, suddenly feeling like he was a misbehaving preteen caught peeking in the bath house. Then again, Hiruzen rarely told him off for those sort of escapades – in fact, once or twice, he joined in on the antics.

‘Orochimaru told me everything,’ Hiruzen continued. ‘He told me that he was set on retrieving Tsunade and was even willing to battle her in order to complete his mission. But he also told me that you did not support him in that endeavour. In fact, he reported that you stood between them, preventing him from intervening, should he have to. I do not want to speak in juvenile terms, but it seems very much like you ‘took her side’, despite my clear orders to do the opposite.’

‘Orochimaru said all of that? What a snake-in-the-grass,’ Jiraiya pouted.

‘Orochimaru acted how a Shinobi giving a report should: he did so impartially’ Hiruzen said sternly. ‘You might learn a thing or two from him in that respect.’

‘But he agreed to help us in the end!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘Sure, I can’t argue that I didn’t pick sides, but I didn’t want my two best friends to fight. What’s so wrong about that?’

‘I know what happened, and I have reprimanded Orochimaru accordingly for allowing himself to be swayed,’ Hiruzen said. ‘And I understand your sentiment. It is never pleasant when our allies fight amongst themselves, but nonetheless, you’re first duty was to your mission.’

‘There was nothing in my mission that said I should let Oro and Tsu tear each other to shreds,’ Jiraiya argued.

‘No, but you did have a simple goal,’ Hiruzen said. ‘And watch your tone. Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.’

Jiraiya clenched his fists. ‘But…but what could I have done differently? They were a hair away from an all-out battle – I couldn’t just sit by and let that happen.’

Hiruzen lowered his eyes. ‘Then you should have aided Orochimaru rather than stopping him.’

Jiraiya gaped at him. ‘What, and hurt Tsu? No way!’

‘There are other ways to persuade someone aside from exchanging blows, and if you were following your orders efficiently, you would have known that,’ Hiruzen said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. ‘It’s not that I don’t understand your feelings, and the last thing I would have wanted out of your mission was to return Tsunade to us black and blue, but regardless, you had orders. And you actively disobeyed them.’

Jiraiya’s shook his head. ‘What did you expect, Sensei?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that sending us after Tsunade was always bound to end badly,’ Jiraiya said viciously. ‘We’re her friends – have been for nearly an entire decade. As if I would have let anything happen to her, orders or not. If you wanted the job done, no strings attached, then why didn’t you send someone else?’ 

Hiruzen gripped his hands together. ‘Because you are a Shinobi. You are meant to act impartially for the good of the Village and its residents. Or had you forgotten that?’

‘How on earth is letting Tsu go after her mother _not_ for the good of the Village? Komako was the First’s daughter, for goodness sake!’

Tsunade winced. She hadn’t gotten used to referring to her mother in the past tense.

‘Because we are in the middle of a war, you fool,’ Hiruzen said, in a surprising show of anger. ‘The feud with Kagero Village is long and bitter, and has already taken many lives. You trapsing into their territory, during heighted tensions and battles, only makes a bad situation even more complex. It endangers the Shinobi already deployed out there.’

‘But the Inoshishi had nothing to do with Kagero!’

‘And you discovered this _after_ you’d made your move!’ Hiruzen snapped. ‘What would have transpired if Kagero really were behind the kidnappings, hm? Would you have supported Tsunade as she stormed in, endangering _herself_ as well as our comrades? Would you have stood by as she worsened the delicate situation between our two villages? I don’t think you have quite realised the issues you were so close to causing – one foot wrong, Jiraiya, and this unrest could have spiralled out of control.’

‘If you sent scouts in the first place, then you would have realised Kagero weren’t behind it, and -’

‘– we did!’ Hiruzen interrupted, banging the desk with his palms. Tsunade jumped at the noise. ‘That is exactly why we sent Komako and her team in the first place! I understand that we didn’t hear anything from them and that naturally triggered anxieties, but it is not as though we stood by and did nothing!’

Tsunade and Jiraiya stared at him, shocked. He didn’t often lose his temper.

Hiruzen was breathing heavily, trying to compose himself. He could tell he had surprised his students in his sudden show of passion, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed to him that Jiraiya was intentionally avoiding the issue at hand, and didn’t understand how badly the situation could have gone if he’d made the wrong moves.

‘Look,’ Hiruzen said, pinching the bridge of his nose, ‘what’s done is done. I have no doubt that you’d still do exactly the same thing again, but you must understand that you have a responsibility as a Shinobi to the _whole_ Village, not just to Tsunade and your friends. The orders you receive are tailored and well thought out – defying them is just plain foolishness as far as I’m concerned.’

Jiraiya was trying to find something to say to defend himself, but he couldn’t. If anything, he was feeling the beginnings of shame. Hiruzen had a point – if Kagero had been involved, their meddling would have made a bad situation even worse. They could have risked lives. Jiraiya understood that. But he couldn’t have stood by and allowed Tsunade and Orochimaru to exchange blows, nor could he forgive himself if he forced Tsunade to come back without finding Komako. As it so happened, if they _had_ left it alone, Komako might still be alive.

‘Your stupidity aside,’ Hiruzen said, ‘I cannot deny that you were in a difficult situation. We can’t all be like Orochimaru – and sometimes, that is for the best.’

‘Huh?’ Jiraiya said. ‘But you just harked on about how great he is!’

‘Indeed, he is,’ Hiruzen nodded. ‘But I doubt he would have tried to save his enemy. And that, Jiraiya, is a noble thing.’

Jiraiya blinked. The memory of him reaching out to Kenichi, trying to grab his hand before he was crushed by the rockfall, assaulted his scenes. He swallowed thickly. ‘H-how do you know about that?’

‘Hiromichi told me,’ Hiruzen said. ‘He also told me that the man in question had a terrifying control of steel release and that you fared incredibly well against him. Even tried to change him. Orochimaru also mentioned that you came up with the plan of communicating via your toad summoning, and that you carried both Hiromichi and Fumihiro from the collapsing chamber single-handedly, saving them both. All of this are exceptionally impressive feats.’

Jiraiya rather felt like he was experiencing whiplash. One minute he was being reprimanded, the next he was arguing his cause, and now Hiruzen seemed to be _praising_ him, of all things. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

‘I – I mean, I wouldn’t call that _impressive_ , you know?’ Jiraiya said, attempting to be humble. ‘And as for trying to save Kenichi, I figured that’s what anyone would do in my shoes.’

Hiruzen had a peculiar expression on his face. ‘I can assure you, that is not the case. You showed incredible guts, Jiraiya, that much is obvious. You rescued two of your comrades in the process, too, and displayed some high-level techniques and quick-thinking. Even Sakumo praised you.’

Despite himself, Jiraiya glowed.

‘All these things are becoming of a Jonin.’

‘W-what?’ he spluttered, thinking he’d misheard them.

Despite himself, Hiruzen was smiling. Jiraiya’s expression was absolutely priceless. _Well, I’m as surprised as he is_ , Hiruzen thought. _When I took him under my care, all those years ago, I never imagined I’d associate such a rank with the likes of him_.

‘It has been discussed at length,’ Hiruzen said. ‘Although certain members of the council tried to block it,’ ( _Danzo_ , he thought bitterly), ‘it is obvious that you went above and beyond during your – er – renegade mission, and displayed a core of steel. You have the mettle to become a Jonin, that much was proven. Plus, Hiromichi gave you a glowing review, so you might have him to thank.’

Jiraiya had stopped breathing since the word _Jonin_ came into the conversation, and when he came to his senses, his gasped for breath, absolutely floored.

‘But this is on a strictly provisional basis due to the fact that you defied my orders,’ Hiruzen said sternly. ‘So, don’t go celebrating just yet. You will be observed over these coming weeks, and should you actually listen to me, and perform your duties impartially and intelligently, then we can proceed with the promotion. Is that clear?’

‘I – yes – I…I don’t know what to say,’ Jiraiya murmured, feeling like his dreams were actually coming true. Him, a Jonin? Him, standing on the same playing field as Orochimaru? Him, the hopeless class clown, obtaining such a rank? It was absurd. It was madness. It was _awesome_. Jiraiya bit down on his lower lip, feeling an intense rush of emotions. Were it not for Tsunade being in the room, he would have punched the air and let out a victory yell. But it didn’t seem appropriate.

‘Strictly provisional,’ Hiruzen repeated. ‘I mean that, Jiraiya. You breaking orders has a consequence, understand?’

‘Yes, Sarutobi-sensei,’ Jiraiya nodded. ‘And…I’m sorry. But I did what I thought was right at the time.’

Hiruzen nodded. ‘I’m well aware of that. But breaking orders does not a Shinobi make, least of all a Jonin. I am under no obligation to give you this rank, and I have no qualms about sending you back down to Genin level should you step out of line again. Watch your back, and heed my orders.’

Jiraiya nodded stiffly, suddenly feeling a lot of pressure. He half expected someone to creep out of the shadows of the office and start stalking him to make sure he behaved. He snuck a look at Tsunade. She looked shocked, that was clear as day, but he was certain there was a slight smile on her face. He clenched his fists together in victory. _One step closer to Orochimaru._

Hiruzen took a deep breath, his eyes settling on Tsunade. ‘The same cannot be said for you, Tsunade. I needn’t list everything you’ve done wrong, but for the sake of clarity, I feel I must.’

Tsunade nodded, feeling very small. She could feel Jiraiya looking at her and wished he’d leave. He’d already has his talking to. He didn’t need to stay and witness hers. She felt uncomfortable enough as it was.

‘Firstly, you left the Village without permission, despite being a Shinobi on active duty,’ Hiruzen said. ‘What would have happened if you needed you for another mission? If Biwako needed your support at the hospital, what then? Not to mention the fact that you terrified your Grandmother and your brother – even your father, for that matter - but such things are not my business. You understand the severity of this, I imagine?’ 

Tsunade nodded.

‘Speak up, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen said.

‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘I understand completely.’

‘Secondly,’ Hiruzen continued, ‘you actively defied my orders. I distinctly remember telling you _not_ to act on your own, lest you risk the other Shinobi in the Land of Mountains, but you totally disregarded me. I’ve already spoken today of the foolishness of such actions, and I need not repeat myself. But you endangered yourself and your comrades through your recklessness. You’re aware of this, I’m sure.’

‘I – I am,’ Tsunade said. Her eyes were glued on the floor, unable to look up at him.

Hiruzen did not take any pleasure in his reprimanding of her, or of Jiraiya, but he had his duties. ‘Thirdly, you risked Jiraiya and Orochimaru by persuading them to join you. I don’t have to tell you of the risks, naturally, but the two of them are your teammates. What if something had happened to them under your watch? You presumed the role of leader without considering your actions, nor the lives you were suddenly responsible for.’

‘We have our minds, you know,’ Jiraiya said, jumping in to defend her. ‘And we knew the risks when we agreed to help.’

Hiruzen held up a hand to silence him. ‘The point is, you didn’t think things through. You were so consumed with your goal that you failed to fully consider the consequences. Whatsmore, you were prepared to _fight_ Orochimaru, going completely against the Shinboi Code. That sounds accurate, does it not?’

Jiraiya looked between them, ready to support her when she argued against him, but she did no such thing. She just nodded. It wasn’t like her to be so subdued – usually, she gave as good as she got, and then some. But it wasn’t a usual day, nor a usual mission.

‘Finally,’ Hiruzen said, deriving no pleasure from his words, ‘and perhaps most gravely, you were foolish enough to think you could handle it on your own. What would have happened if no one came after you? Would you have taken on all of Inoshishi by yourself, risking the Konoha hostages? I understand you think highly of yourself, Tsunade, but such arrogance is astonishing. Even for you.’

Tsunade felt her face flame. She pressed her lips together, hating how Hiruzen could make her feel like a disobedient child again. Calling her out on her misdemeanours was one thing, but citing her alleged arrogance as the cause was categorically embarrassing. It wasn’t the root of it, far from it. She just wanted to rescue her mother. Did that make her conceited, she wondered? To think she could do it all alone?

‘It is one thing to be confident, and another to be big-headed,’ Hiruzen continued. ‘You sway too close to the latter, Tsunade. We’ve spoken about this. And that attitude of yours could have gotten you killed. I need you to understand that I’m not necessarily angry at your disregard for my orders, but at your lack of self-preservation and consideration for your teammates. You could have gotten into trouble. Serious trouble.’

Tsunade nodded. Yes, she could understand where he was coming from. Hiruzen’s role as Hokage was to protect the Village, and of course, their meddling too close to Kagero threatened that. But at the same time, and at the heart of it, he was their sensei. He worried for them as though they were his own kin. She suddenly felt like she wanted the ground to swallow her up.

‘Look at me, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen said, his tone gentler.

Tsunade obeyed, and felt Jiraiya’s eyes on her. She avoided looking at him. It really was as though the clock had sprung back nine years, and they were six years old again, newly graduated Genin, being chastised for one thing or another. Expect usually, it was just Jiraiya who needed a talking to, and she was the better example. In fact, she used to relish in Hiruzen’s severe reprimanding, because a cruel part of her found it funny, watching Jiraiya get flustered and squirm as he tried to defend herself. But now, their roles were reversed. She was the one squirming and she half expected him to join in and jeer at her. She almost wished he would. That would have been better than the sympathetic gaze.

‘I won’t demote you for your actions because that would waste our time,’ Hiruzen said. ‘And I wish not to punish you, either. I rather think Komako’s death is punishment enough. Too much, really.’

Tsunade looked at his face. As the years went on, it was growing wearier, more lined, less relaxed. But his eyes stayed the same. There was comfort in that, at least.

‘But I can’t even consider you for Jonin promotion, though I’m sure you worked that much out for yourself,’ Hiruzen sighed.

‘Yes,’ Tsunade mumbled.

‘And…I am sorry, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen managed, feeling a lump in his throat. ‘I know all of this seems harsh while you’re grieving, but it is necessary. I hope you will learn from this – both of you.’

Jiraiya straightened up and spoke for both of them. ‘We will, Sarutobi-sensei.’

Hiruzen let out a long, tired sigh, one that deflated his shoulders. ‘In the meantime, continue your studies as you were. But I will be removing you from active duty for a fortnight, Tsunade – understood?’

Jiraiya looked between Hiruzen and Tsunade, outraged. ‘What the hell? Why?’

Hiruzen looked at him with sad eyes. ‘It is not meant as a punishment. It is a kindness. Compassionate leave to…to give her time to heal.’ 

Tsunade’s lower lip trembled. She felt on the verge of bursting into tears. It was one thing to be chastised and another to receive gentleness. The latter was more devastating when one is feeling fragile. Not wanting her dignity to suffer any more blows than it already had, she nodded quickly at Hiruzen, before turning on her heels and heading out the door.

Hiruzen watched her go.

‘That was…a little harsh, sensei,’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘Be that as it may, she must learn. That goes for you too, Jiraiya,’ he replied, folding his hands under his chin. ‘But as I said, the leave is not to put into her doubt her abilities as a Shinobi, but to give her time to collect herself and mourn. Grief…it’s a troublesome beast. Keep an eye on her, won’t you?’

Jiraiya nodded. ‘Yeah. Don’t even have to ask.’

Nervously, Jiraiya left the Hokage office, his emotions fried. He walked along the corridor until he was met with Tsunade’s back as she leaned against the wall. He paused. Her shoulders were quivering and he knew at once that she was crying. He kept his distance, not wanting to notice. But what could he do? Hiruzen had scolded her in front of him, likely embarrassing her, and promoted him above her - all while she was mourning Komako’s loss. He was probably the last person she wanted to talk to. He couldn’t blame her.

Then, sensed him. 

‘I’m not crying,’ she snarled, keeping her head turned away from Jiraiya. Her voice was thick. ‘I wouldn’t be so stupid as to cry over something as pointless as Shinobi rank, so don’t even try teasing me about it.’

Jiraiya felt a flicker of hurt rush up from his chest. As if he’d even think of teasing her at a time like that. ‘I mean…if you were crying, I wouldn’t have thought it was because of the Jonin promotion.’

He looked away pointedly – not that she would have see him – as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

Tsunade pressed her lips together. ‘I bet you’re pretty satisfied with yourself. Finally caught up to Orochimaru, haven’t you? Becoming a Jonin at 15 is impressive, after all.’

‘I’m not in the right headspace to be completely satisfied,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘And besides, it’s only on a provisional basis.’

‘Huh. I guess so.’

Jiraiya didn’t know what to say. As much as Tsunade would protest, he knew it must have been a slap in the face for her, not making Jonin when both he and Orochimaru had. He rather felt like Hiruzen had kicked her while she was down, and he didn’t appreciate it. He wasn’t even sure if _he_ deserved the promotion. Of course, Hiromichi reporting to Hiruzen about Jiraiya’s heroic actions and quick thinking had sealed the deal, but without that, he was certain he would still be a Chuunin. The qualifications for becoming a Jonin were complex and lengthy, and he found it tremendously unfair that both he and Tsunade had defied orders, but only she was getting punished for it. If anything, she deserved the promotion for showing such impressive mental fortitude.

‘Tsu -’

‘– leave it, Jiraiya ,’ Tsunade choked, her voice wavering. ‘I’m going home. If I’m still welcome there.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘I’m not sure any of them can stand the sight of me at the moment,’ Tsunade said bitterly.

Jiraiya swallowed thickly. ‘I’m sure that isn’t true. Nawaki and Mito, they don’t…they don’t blame you for what happened, you know. None of us do. If anything, Sakumo probably blames _himself_ for leaving his sabre within that woman’s reach. Not that he should. What happened was a tragic accident, Tsu, and nothing more.’

‘I’m surprised Grandmother has kept herself together so well,’ Tsunade whispered, feeling fresh tears warm in the corner of her eyes. She was glad Jiraiya couldn’t see. ‘I mean, she’s lost her husband _and_ her daughter. Not to mention her friends. If I was in her shoes, I hardly know how I’d cope.’

‘Mito is a strong woman,’ Jiraiya said. ‘That’s the Uzumaki Clan for you. Besides, it probably takes a great deal of strength to keep that Kyuubi under control, eh?’

‘I think it’s more her trying to stay strong for Nawaki and I. Father has totally crumbled, so she doesn’t have much of a choice.’

Jiraiya sighed. He was trying to inject a bit of light-hearted humour into the situation in an attempt to make her smile. He hadn’t seen her smile since they’d got back. ‘Yeah. I know.’

He watched her as she straightened up, sniffed hard, and wiped her eyes again. He knew she hated it when people saw her cry. The last time he had seen her, before Komako’s death, was when Tobirama had died. But back then, it felt like the tears didn’t carry as much weight. They were children. Children cried over all sorts of things, so when they wept in the name of seriousness, no one really thought it odd. And back then, Tsunade didn’t think twice about sharing their grief with them, because she knew they felt it too. Jiraiya wished she’d share her pain with him. He was feeling it too, though not as intensely, and, quite frankly, he could have done with a hug. If not to comfort her, but to comfort himself. It had not been easy, carrying Komako’s body from the caves, her red hair hanging lankly over her white face. But Tsunade was clearly not interested in sharing her grief.

‘I’ll see you around, Jiraiya,’ she said, her voice small. ‘And…congratulations. You did good, you know? You should be proud. I know I am.’

Jiraiya’s words caught in his throat. Even in her grief, in her frustration and vulnerability, she found some shred of herself that was able to be happy for him. _Mito is not the only strong one_ , he thought, watching her as she walked away down the corridor. He wanted to do something, anything, to ease her pain. But he couldn’t find the words.

*

Taichi stared across the river, his eyes half-lidded and swollen. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried so much. In fact, he could hardly remember the last time he had shed a tear. The world had hardened him. He thought he may had cried for Lord First on his deathbed, but even then, he wasn’t certain. Mito had told him what happened to Komako, coldly, mechanically, like she was reciting a report. He clenched his fists. If only he’d been there, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

_If only that fool of a Hokage had sent reinforcements._

‘I know the scenery is quite lovely, but does it really call for such an emotional expression?’

Danzo’s voice appeared behind him. Taichi hadn’t even heard him approach. That was his way, though – he was silent and clung to the shadows.

‘Leave me, Danzo,’ Taichi murmured. ‘I wish to be alone.’

‘I’m sure your grieving mother-in-law and children really appreciate that sentiment,’ Danzo said dryly, lowering himself on the grass to sit next to Taichi. ‘When was the last time you went home?’

‘It is no longer ‘home’.’

‘Your children are still there, Taichi,’ Danzo said. ‘Don’t forget that.’

‘What do you care?’ Taichi snarled, balling a fistful of grass between his hands. ‘Last time I checked, you found Tsuna to be insolent and Nawaki to be irritating. It is out of character for you to be concerned for anyone other than yourself, least of all those you displease you.’ 

Danzo grimaced coldly. ‘My, my. That was quite the outburst. I thought we viewed each other as friends, Taichi.’

‘We’re allies. They’re two different things,’ Taichi muttered.

Danzo let out a dry chuckle. ‘Forgive me, Taichi. I did not intend to overstep the mark. But I am glad you still count me as your ally, considering recent events.’

Taichi tightened his grip on the grass. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I failed to push Hiruzen to dispatch more Shinobi to pursue Komako,’ Danzo admitted. ‘Although, I must admit, I was eager to send those two boys after Princess Tsunade. Hiruzen was less so, and even less inclined to dispatch Sakumo Hatake.’

That was a downright lie, and at first, Danzo thought it was risky. Taichi was not an idiot, despite his tendency to think with his fists. In truth, Danzo _hadn’t_ wanted Jiraiya and Orochimaru to pursue Tsunade, believing they would merely disrupt Komako’s reconnaissance. He never dreamed she’d fail. He was also not in favour of sending Sakumo out after the trio. In his opinion, if they were stupid enough to break their orders, they deserved everything coming to them. But if he was going to push Taichi to further their tenuous partnership, he would have to stretch the truth.

Taichi scoffed. ‘That hardly sounds like you, Danzo. Isn’t your whole mantra dedicated to the survival of the fittest?’

‘Perhaps,’ Danzo said, ‘but I am not so cold-hearted that I wanted Princess Tsunade and her friends to meet a sticky end. The same can be said for your late wife – the last thing I wanted was for Komako to fail to return.’

‘What, and you expect me to believe Hiruzen did?’ Taichi said. ‘The man is as soft as dough and cares insistently for my daughter and her little friends. He still feels responsible for the Senju family, too, given all that my father-in-law and his brother taught him.’

Danzo thought quickly. ‘I’m merely giving you the facts, Taichi.’

‘You’re lying through your teeth,’ Taichi spat. ‘And believe me when I say that now is not the time to test my patience.’

Danzo composed himself. It was vital he got Taichi on side for his plans, but it was tricky when Hiruzen was such a do-gooder. Then again, Hiruzen’s initial reluctance could not be denied. Danzo could use that to his advantage.

‘You can think whatever you wish of me,’ Danzo said coolly. ‘But the fact still stands: Hiruzen was not prepared to send out reinforcements when Komako failed to report. Why else would your daughter have gone out after her in the first place, if Hiruzen was planning on sending more Shinobi to investigate?’

Taichi rolled the blades of grass between his fingertips. ‘Likely because my daughter is impatient and Hiruzen wasn’t working fast enough. You can’t seriously expect me to believe that _you_ wanted to send people out immediately, can you?’

‘I didn’t want any harm coming to Komako, and that is the truth,’ Danzo said (which, in fairness, it was). ‘I admit that I should have pushed Hiruzen further. But you can ask Homura; Hiruzen did not want to - what was it he said - _there is too much at risk to pursue the matter further_.’ Danzo conveniently left out the part when he wholeheartedly agreed with that statement and advised Hiruzen against sending out more forces. He needed to endear Taichi to his cause, and the best way to do that was by twisting the truth – or, at least, leaving out some aspects of the truth.

He watched as Taichi’s jaw tightened. He smirked to himself. Hook, line, and sinker.

‘It seems to me that our virtuous Hokage did not want to risk _anyone_ for Komako and her team, despite overwhelming evidence implying she ran into difficulty,’ Danzo continued, his tone light and delicate. ‘I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he’d approved sending out someone like Hatake sooner. Time was very much of the essence in this case, as I’m sure you’re aware.’

A vein popped in Taichi’s temple, barely discernible under his scars.

‘And you know well,’ Danzo said, ‘that I’m not one for speculation. But I really can’t help but wonder what the outcome would have been if Hiruzen was more…decisive, shall we say, and less concerned for the masses. After all, Komako Senju is infinitely more valuable to the Village than, let’s say, an average Chuunin. To me, our Hokage hasn’t got his priorities straight.’

‘The thought had crossed my mind,’ Taichi muttered. ‘But to voice such opinions aloud is…frowned upon.’

‘You believe some lives to be worth more than others?’

‘It is not as simple as that,’ Taichi said. ‘I am not in my right mind. Whatsmore, it is only natural that I view Komako as more valuable than a handful of strangers I’ve never met. Such is human nature.’

‘It worries me that Hiruzen does not share your sentiment,’ Danzo sighed. ‘It is clear that he would rank everyone of the same calibre, despite their own achievements or shortcomings. It seems to me that he lacks the strength to decide.’

‘What are you saying, Danzo?’

Danzo looked out over the river. ‘I am saying that he lacks the strength to make the difficult decisions. If had been in his shoes, I would have done everything in my power to bring Komako back. She was the First’s daughter, after all, and exceptionally talented.’

‘She was more than that,’ Taichi said, his voice thick. ‘She was my wife.’

‘And had Hiruzen been able to make a decision, your wife might still be alive.’

Taichi’s posture stiffened. He had been feeling such a complex torrent of emotions that he had barely paid attention to his rage. The love of his life had been taken away from him, never to return. All he had now were memories. Of her gentle touch, of her kindly words, of her extraordinary ability to forgive him for his harshness towards her. He knew he’d driven a wedge between them because of his treatment of Tsunade and Nawaki, and such a transgression a mother would never forgive, but he didn’t stop loving her.

As much as he wanted to stop, to soften up, to return to the way things once were, the world had turned him cold. Komako was the only one who was able to warm him, if even for a short while. He didn’t deserve her. He never did. He was acutely aware of it, but that didn’t stop his spiralling behaviour. He hated himself for it, could feel himself pushing her away the more he mistreated their children, but he couldn’t stop. He had hoped, one day, that he might fix himself and prove to her that she was enough, their family was enough – enough to heal him for the better. But it was too late.

‘Hiruzen has never been one for difficult decisions,’ Danzo continued. ‘He lacks the gall to truly see people for what they’re worth. We Shinobi are a product of our skills, not our beating hearts. I see my Root members as weapons, not people – such is the way. If Konoha is to be strong – and if the strong are to thrive – Hiruzen needs to start seeing Shinobi for what they are: tools to be used for the greater good.’

Taichi pressed his lips together. ‘What you’re saying, Danzo, is that you would have thrown Shinobi after Shinobi to secure Komako’s safety? To save her life?’

Danzo nodded. ‘Naturally. If Hiruzen was any sort of Hokage, he would have done the same thing. Komako, with all her skills, teachings, and status, was worth _more_ than most of the people who wear a Konoha forehead protector. She should not have died in such a way. Not to mention that her killer has been spared.’

Taichi jerked his head up. ‘What did you say?’

Danzo folded his hands in his lap. ‘Oh, were you not made aware? Hatake secured two prisoners and brought them back for questioning – such is Hiruzen’s way. It seems his pathetically spluttering weakness is spreading like the plague. If _I_ was the Hokage, I would have ordered their death on sight.’

Taichi’s teeth screeched together. ‘You’re telling me that Hiruzen has not only ordered their capture, but our mercy? After everything they did?’

‘Indeed, he has,’ Danzo sighed. ‘They are imprisoned, but alive and well. We’re not even allowed to torture them for information; apparently, they have no valuable intel. In my opinion, it is only a matter of time before Hiruzen exonerates them both and sends them on their merry way. The punishment system no longer exists in Konoha, it seems – unless he’s busy reprimanding your daughter, that is.’

‘Yes. I have…been made aware that Tsuna is on compulsory leave,’ Taichi muttered.

‘It seems he is happy to punish the least guilty parties in favour of the most,’ Danzo shrugged, stirring the pot. ‘And really, putting your daughter on forced leave only soils the Senju name, does it not? With each day, it appears the clan you hold in such high regard is weakening.’

‘The Senjus are not weak,’ Taichi spat, remembering how much he had looked up to them as a boy. He wondered if, in part, his admiration was what made him fall so hard for Komako in the first place.

‘That’s not what the Village is seeing,’ Danzo said. ‘Hashirama died warm in his bed, and the great Tobirama died in a futile war. Now, the Head of the family was captured and murdered by a nameless band of deserters, and your daughter has been temporarily stripped of her rank. It hardly reeks of strength, does it?’

‘Watch your words, Danzo,’ Taichi growled.

Danzo held up his hands in mock innocence. ‘I am merely citing the gossipmongers, Taichi. What I really wanted to highlight was Hiruzen’s catastrophic failings, and nothing more.’

‘You truly think him unfit for the title of Hokage, don’t you?’ Taichi said.

‘It is not a question of being unfit,’ Danzo said. ‘There is no denying his prowess as a Shinobi, nor his way with the people. But I am concerned about what will happen to Konoha if he continues with his weak-willed nonsense. We have already lost Komako. I wish not to lose any more of our strongest Shinobi.’

‘As much as I admired Komako, I hardly believe her passing will bring the Village to ruin,’ Taichi admitted. ‘You sure you aren’t escalating matters for your own agenda?’

Danzo wore a grim smile. ‘I am not so black and white, I’m afraid. But think about it, Taichi – his inability to punish criminals sends a message of weakness to the other Great Villages. Not to mention this out-stretched business with Kagero could have been finished, lest he stopped extending the olive branch. We are stronger. We could have crushed them and spared the lives of our Shinobi. But his dithering desperation to ‘keep the peace’ spells disaster. Konoha will suffer under him.’

Taichi released the grass he had balled up in his fist. ‘You make a good case, Danzo. I knew as such when I agreed to help you form Root under Hiruzen’s nose.’

‘You agree, then, that allowing Hiruzen to continue on will endanger the Village?’ Danzo pressed. Just one more push.

Taichi cast his eyes over the water again. The riverside was when he’d first seen Komako. He was but a boy, suddenly orphaned and full of resentment, knees drawn to his chest and dirt on his face from neglect. He had stared at his wobbling reflection in the water, wishing nothing more than for his parents to appear behind him. Instead, there was a smudge of red. He had looked up and saw her standing over him, a flower in her hair, concern gracing over his features. _Are you okay there? You seem awful sad,_ she had said. He hardly knew how to reply. Her tone was so honest and sincere, like she was genuinely concerned for the strange little boy she had come across. She saw him when he felt like a ghost.

Taichi blinked, a sigh wrenching his body. _If Hiruzen had shown some decent leadership, she might still…_

‘Yes, Danzo,’ Taichi said, his tone soft. ‘I agree with you. So, what are we going to do about it?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, actually updating once a week now: *an absolute shocker* England is in lockdown again, though, so I've had more free time!  
> But for real though, the overwhelming positivity I've received from your lovely comments really spurred me on to update weekly - and, would you believe, I'm already working on the next chapter!  
> I'm very aware this is sad. And the next one probably isn't going to be any better, BUT I can guarantee some wholesomeness soon. I love writing happy things even more than angsty things, but sadly, in Kishi's world, it's all a bit gloomy.  
> OH and as for that Andrzeji Sapkowski line, it's a quote from his novel 'The Last Wish', in which the main protagonist says 'If I’m to choose between one evil and another… I’d rather not choose at all'. I gave an abridged version of that line to Sakumo because it suits him, but I take absolutely no credit for it 😂 Wish I could come up with juicy lines like that...  
> In any case, the whole chapter can be summarised with a classic:  
> Me: 'Man, I sure love the Sannin!'  
> Also me: *makes them all cry*  
> (I felt that Orochimaru scene, guys. Right in the heart).  
> So, for now, happy (I guess???) reading! If you have any suggestions about how you'd like this story to progress, or any improvements, please let me know! ❤


	22. Short Fuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsunade crosses a line, Jiraiya is admired, and Orochimaru is given a new responsibility.

Chapter 22 – Short Fuse

Date: 41 A.K (After Konoha)

A week had passed since the business with the Inoshishi, and Jiraiya, Orochimaru and Tsunade had spent nearly every day together. They hadn’t spent that much time as trio since they were children, but that mission had changed them, and not for the better. It seemed they took comfort in the familiarity of each other’s presence, wishing not to stray from normality.

They were sat on a bench outside a dango shop, shoulder to shoulder due to the lack of room. It was quite the sight; Jiraiya was blushing from sitting so close to Tsunade, and Orochimaru was blushing from sitting so close to Jiraiya. They were teenagers, after all. Tsunade, meanwhile, was merely half-heartedly picking at the dango on a skewer, digging away at its roundness.

‘If you’re not gonna eat that, I will,’ Jiraiya said, his voice muffled from his own helping of the sweet dumplings.

‘Don’t speak with your mouth full of food, you pig,’ Tsunade grimaced.

‘I think you’ve had quite enough anyway, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, pointing at the collection of gnawed skewers at his feet. ‘You’ll ruin your physique if you’re not careful.’

‘Not a chance,’ Jiraiya grinned, flexing his arms. ‘I’ve been up with the lark every morning to train – gotta keep my eye on the ball if I want that promised Jonin promotion!’

He felt Tsunade stiffen next to him and immediately felt bad. He actively tried not to mention the Jonin promotion when in her company, rather feeling like he was rubbing salt into the wound. But if she cared, she did her best not to show it.

‘Well, that’s true enough,’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘When I was under consideration for the promotion, I felt like I was being watched from all angles.’

Jiraiya jerked around, as if attempting to spot any suspicious activity. Orochimaru pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at his indignant and panicked expression. For a so-called ‘big-shot Ninja’, Jiraiya sure was easy to fool.

‘Green tea, anyone?’ Tsunade said absentmindedly, not keeping track of the conversation. She zoned out most days, but Jiraiya and Orochimaru were at least tactful enough to avoid calling her out on it.

‘If you’re paying!’ Jiraiya said eagerly.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. ‘Remind me the last time you dipped your hand in your pocket when the three of us went out?’

‘I’m not the one rolling in riches though, am I?’ Jiraiya winked.

‘I’m not some bottomless pit of money, you know,’ Tsunade said sourly.

‘Yeah, but you’re better off than most around here.’

Tsunade sighed. There was little point in arguing. It was true that coming from a successful and renowned family may have lined her pockets more than the average Shinobi, but she didn’t exactly have access to it. _Although,_ she thought miserably, _I guess I am technically the heir to the Senju estate, now. I’m the Head of the family now, but I won’t get to enjoy the so-called riches until I’m 18._

Komako’s funeral had been an extravagant display, which had its perks as well as its downfalls. The plus side was that the whole Village could participate in the ceremony, much like the Hokage funerals. Despite her grief, Tsunade had to admit that meeting so many of Komako’s students, past and present, was a comfort to her. They shared such fond memories of her and their time together, so, Tsunade couldn’t help but feel that Komako’s Will of Fire had been passed down, and would burn for generations to come. One of the few students she didn’t see was a boy just a year her senior, Dan Kato. He had been in a four-man cell with Komako as his sensei, and Touta and Noriko. She wanted to meet him, to pass on her condolences, but so many people were in attendance that she hardly knew where to start looking. Hiruzen had made a speech, followed by a tearful Mito, but Tsunade could not muster the emotional strength to share her own words. Taichi was silent through the whole affair, consumed by his grief, and Nawaki did little else but sniffle quietly into Jiraiya’s side.

The downside of such a large event was, naturally, the attention. It was one thing to have Jiraiya and Orochimaru comfort her, and mean it, but having hundreds of literal strangers pat her on the shoulder and spout such lines as _I’m so sorry for your loss – I can understand what you’re going through – we’re here to support you no matter what –_ did little to soothe her. In fact, it got to the point where it actively annoyed her. She knew it came from a place of kindness, but it wasn’t their _job_ to comfort her. In some cases, she swore it was just an excuse to get an exclusive scoop with the grief-stricken Senju heir. Whatsmore, there were some less than savoury comments floating about the streets regarding the funerals for Touta, Noriko, and dear Jun. In comparison to Komako’s, theirs were meagre at best. Some felt that, since they all perished on the same mission, they should be paid equal respect. Such comments made Tsunade’s blood boil more than the forced sympathy from strangers.

In any case, it was done, and all four of them were buried properly, on their home soil. That was all that mattered.

‘Tsu? You getting the tea?’ Jiraiya asked, tugging her arm.

‘Huh?’ Tsunade said, having zoned out. ‘Oh. Yeah.’

As she turned her back on the two boys, Jiraiya’s carefree expression immediately changed to one of concern.

‘Don’t even say you’re worried again,’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘You know there’s nothing we can do for her at the moment other than be there for her.’

‘But I _am_ worried,’ Jiraiya muttered, careful to keep his voice low. ‘I know you’re getting bored of me saying it, but I feel like nothing we’re doing is getting through to her. Even a banquet at our favourite barbecue place didn’t help!’

‘ _Your_ favourite barbecue place,’ Orochimaru corrected. ‘And really, Jiraiya, if you think grilling meat over some hot coals is going to miraculously make her feel better, than you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were.’

‘Sheesh, no need to be so harsh,’ Jiraiya muttered. ‘I don’t see you making the effort to cheer her up, at any rate.’

Orochimaru regretted his words. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Jiraiya – one out-of-character friend was quite enough for him to deal with. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just…well, don’t forget, I know what it’s like to lose a parent. It can’t be fixed so easily.’

‘I lost my mother too, you know,’ Jiraiya said gruffly.

‘I know,’ Orochimaru said, careful with his words. ‘And while I’m sure you felt her loss as acutely as the rest, it’s a different sort of loss. Your grief stems from the fact that you never got to know her. Tsunade’s comes from the fact that she’ll never know her again.’

Jiraiya swallowed thickly, titling his head up to the clouds. It was an overcast day and a little cold – winter was certainly settling in. Orochimaru glanced at him, his eyes following from the raised welt on Jiraiya’s forehead from his battle with Kenichi, down the curve of his nose, and finishing at the base of his chin. A frown was furrowed on his features, his eyes closed and long-lashed. Orochimaru pressed his lips together. _Would he be so worried if it was me?_

‘Jiraiya! Orochimaru!’ came a voice from ahead of them. They looked up in unison and saw Akari Sato jogging towards them. Akari was a classmate of theirs, and had graduated second from last, just sparing herself the disappointment Jiraiya had to endure. She was the third member of Homura’s Team Four, and had been beside herself with worry when both Hiromichi and Fumihiro had been missing.

‘Hey, Akari! It’s sure been a while,’ Jiraiya said, standing up. Orochimaru missed his closeness.

‘You’re telling me,’ Akari panted. ‘Last time I checked, you were only _this_ tall.’ She gestured extravagantly with her hand to indicate a height equal to her short stature, and Jiraiya let out a hearty laugh.

‘How have you been?’ he asked. He always had time for Akari, considering she was close to the bottom of the class along with him. Though, like he had, she had started to come into her own.

‘Much better now Hiro and Fumi are back,’ she beamed. ‘I just went to see them at the Hospital – they might be able to transplant Fumi’s Byakugan _back_ from that horrible wench who stole it in the first place! But apparently, it’s quite complex. Anyway, the point is, I figured I’d rush over to see and say, you know, thanks! Hiro told me _everything_ , Jiraiya – about how brave and awesome you were and about how you rescued them both! I had no idea you’d gotten so cool!’

A dull blush extended over Jiraiya’s face, and Orochimaru found himself suddenly disliking Akari more than he had back in their school days. She was pretty, with sleek, dark hair and bright eyes. Orochimaru was sure Jiraiya had noticed.

‘Ah, well, you know,’ Jiraiya grinned, rubbing the back his head, ‘just doing what anyone one would have done!’

‘And then some,’ Akari beamed. ‘Seriously, Jiraiya, I can’t thank you enough. If anything had happened to them, I don’t know what I’d…anyway, we don’t even have to entertain the idea now, do we?’

‘True enough,’ Jiraiya said. ‘And since we pretty much dispensed their gang, the Inoshishi, I doubt they’ll be giving us grief any time soon.’

Akari gasped, her hand over her mouth. ‘You’re telling me you actually defeated an entire group of militant Shinobi?’

_Not single-handedly,_ Orochimaru thought grouchily. _If I remember correctly, Hatake did most of the leg-work._

‘Well, you know me,’ Jiraiya said, straightening up and puffing out his chest. ‘I’m not one for letting jobs go unfinished. And I couldn’t let them run around causing more chaos in good conscience, after all.’

Akari sighed and gazed at Jiraiya with something that looked disturbingly like admiration.

‘But I did have help,’ Jiraiya grinned, in a surprising show of humility. He blindly reached out for Orochimaru and yanked him to his feet, trapping him under his arm in a gruff hug. ‘ _This_ guy right here was instrumental. Couldn’t have done it without him!’

Akari’s smile of adoration slipped off her pretty features when her gaze swivelled to Orochimaru, who had gone rigid in awkwardness. He was no good with people, least of all members of the class who had tormented him so.

‘Huh. Well, thanks then, Orochimaru,’ Akari said, bowing her head. ‘Though Hiro didn’t really mention you.’

If Orochimaru was an overly prideful person, he might have seethed at that comment.

‘So, Hiromichi and Fumihiro are doing well, are they?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘Hm, for sure,’ Akari nodded eagerly. ‘They’ll both need long-term psychological care, considering everything they went through, but Hiro is getting stronger by the day, and like I said, they might be able to return Fumi’s Byakugan. It’ll be real tricky, though. I dunno how it works, but it sounds super complicated.’

‘I’m sure Tsunade would be able to handle it,’ Jiraiya said proudly.

‘Yeah, I’m sure she could,’ Akari agreed. ‘I spoke to Lord Third’s wife, and she actually recommended her, did you know? But I heard that she -’

‘– heard what, Akari?’ Tsunade said, appearing with a tray of steaming tea.

Akari immediately faltered, suddenly looking increasingly uncomfortable. She squirmed on the spot, twisting her fingers together. ‘I…er…you know, the whole forced leave thing.’

Jiraiya sucked in a puff of air through his teeth. If there was one thing Tsunade didn’t need right now, it was to be reminded of that. She knew that Hiruzen meant it as a kindness, but to everyone else, it looked very much like disciplinary action.

Tsunade’s expression was stony, biting back a retort. ‘I’ll be back next week. If the operation hasn’t proceeded by then, I’ll be happy to take a look.’

Akari’s face was torn between relief and awkwardness. ‘Thanks, then, I guess.’

Tsunade looked her up and down, impassively. ‘Did you want to join us? I can get more tea.’

Akari held her hands up, waving them frantically. ‘No, no, it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to gate-crash. I only came over here to thank Jiraiya for his efforts in rescuing Hiro and Fumi.’

‘Like I said, no biggie,’ Jiraiya smiled, and Akari practically swooned. Orochimaru refrained from demonstrating his up-chuck reflex.

‘And I guess I should be thanking you too, Princess Tsunade,’ Akari said, turning to address her with a little less apprehension than previously. ‘After all, if you hadn’t gone off in the first place, Hiro and Fumi might have been left to rot.’

‘I’m sure Sarutobi-sensei would have done something before then,’ Jiraiya said quickly.

‘I’m not convinced,’ Akari sighed. ‘I mean, even Homura-sensei seemed reluctant about going after them – all that business with Kagero really put a spanner in the works, huh? In any case, your recklessness ended up saving the day, Princess! Who would have thought?’

‘I try my best,’ Tsunade said, through gritted teeth.

‘But, like, I’m really sorry about your mum,’ Akari said sincerely. ‘That can’t have been easy. And Lady Komako was always so lovely, you know? Had a nice thing to say about everyone in the Village, even little old me!’

Jiraiya and Orochimaru exchanged a look out of the corner of their eyes. In this scenario, Tsunade seemed to have three different reactions: one was an empty _thank you,_ something to say purely out of courtesy; one was a genuine _it’s been hard_ , usually reserved for her close family and friends; and the last, arguably the worst, was anger. They had to spare the poor waiter at the barbecue place from her withering glare when he tried to give them a discount out of ‘condolences’. In truth, neither Jiraiya or Orochimaru had worked out why she got so prickly about it. They suspected it was because she felt that the empathy was forced, and the promise that they ‘understood’ what she was going through to be exaggerated and misplaced. Jiraiya had earnestly explained that people just didn’t know what to say, but felt they had to say something, and her answer was a stone-cold _then they shouldn’t open their mouths in the first place._

The boys practically held their breath, waiting for her reaction.

Coolly, Tsunade let out a long sigh. ‘I wasn’t aware you were so closely acquainted with my mother, Akari.’

Jiraiya winced and Akari became flustered very quickly – such was the power of an earth-shattering glare from Tsunade.

‘I – I mean,’ Akari stuttered, ‘everyone sang her praises and stuff, especially at the funeral. I’ve never seen so many flowers in one place before.’

‘Well, I’m glad the floral display was to your standards,’ Tsunade said. ‘I’m certain my mother would deeply appreciate your attention for flower arrangements – I’ll be sure to pass on the message the next time I visit her grave.’

Akari gulped. ‘I merely meant that it’s probably hard for you and your family at the moment, but if there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to ask. Purposefully or not, you did help save my friends. I really appreciate it.’

‘Yes. I’m so glad I managed to save those two instead of my mother,’ Tsunade said, her voice dripping with glacial sarcasm.

Akari’s face dropped, clearly having no idea what to say.

‘Anyway,’ Jiraiya interjected, before Akari was reduced to a smoking pile of ash, ‘don’t sweat it about Hiromichi and Fumihiro, Akari. I’m glad we were able to lend a hand – but you keep an eye on them, alright? They’ll need you if they’re going to recover fully.’

‘I – yes,’ Akari nodded, grabbing onto his words like a life-line. ‘Be sure to visit them in hospital when you get a chance, Jiraiya. Hiro wants to thank you personally.’

‘Does that invitation extend to Oro and I? We did help, after all,’ Tsunade asked, her eyebrows raised.

Looking very much like a deer in the headlights, poor Akari blinked at the pair of them. Tsunade’s deadpan expression was making her nervous, and Orochimaru’s glower seemed like it had the capacity to turn her into a puddle.

‘E – erm,’ Akari squeaked, ‘yes! Of course! The more the merrier!’

‘Thanks, Akari,’ Jiraiya smiled, laying a hand on her shoulder. She was shaking slightly and he felt a rush of sympathy. Having spent so much time with Tsunade and Orochimaru, he forgot how intimidating they could be – especially to someone as meek as Akari.

Akari, who had blushed at the physical contact and made Orochimaru practically hiss in annoyance, bowed her head and scurried off into the chilly afternoon, apparently quite terrified. Jiraiya watched her go, and huffed through his nostrils, turning back to face Tsunade and Orochimaru. The latter had returned to the bench and was blowing quietly on his tea, preferring to leave that whole painful exchange in the past. Jiraiya had other ideas.

‘What the hell was that about, Tsu?’ he said bluntly, as she set the tray down.

‘What?’ Tsunade said. ‘I’m pretty sure Akari came over to say thanks, if my memory isn’t failing me.’

‘And it’s clear she has the hots for you,’ Orochimaru muttered under his breath. Jiraiya didn’t hear him.

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it,’ Jiraiya said, folding his arms. ‘C’mon, Tsu. You _know_ Akari. She was just trying to be nice.’

‘I don’t need niceness,’ Tsunade said. ‘In fact, if _one_ more person comes up to me and tries to pat me on the back in a simpering show of so-called ‘solidarity’, I’ll literally be sick.’

‘Well, what do you expect?’ Jiraiya huffed. ‘Your family has always been in the spot-light, and Komako was well-known and well-loved around the Village. People _want_ to say something. You don’t have to be a brat every time they do.’

Orochimaru gulped down a hot swallow of tea, fearing the impending argument as Tsunade gritted her teeth together.

‘Oh, I’m being the brat, am I?’ she spat. ‘I’m not the one getting off on hero worship every time I step out the front door. How many more times does someone have to clap you on the back and say ‘well done’ before you’ve finished your ego trip, huh?’

Jiraiya let out a snort of humourless laughter. ‘Well, I’m sorry that I happened to save two lives, Tsunade. Next time I’ll just leave them to die, shall I?’

‘No, but you could make the effort not to rub it in our faces,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘Don’t forget, Oro and I were there too, you know, and Sakumo. Without us, you would have had your sorry arse kicked all the way back to Konoha.’ 

‘And what exactly did you _do_?’ Jiraiya snapped, flushing red. ‘Last time I checked, apart from whacking me over the head with a piece of slate, you did next to nothing!’

‘At least I’m honest about what I did and didn’t do!’ Tsunade shouted, her voice catching in her throat. ‘I know it must be foreign to you, actually doing something right for a change, but there’s a time and a place for arrogantly basking in your own apparent glory.’

‘You’re one to talk,’ Jiraiya growled. ‘I’m not the one who got called out by our own sensei for being arrogant. Come back when you’ve got your big-headedness under control, and then maybe I’ll listen.’

‘Don’t give me that crap,’ Tsunade hissed, jerking forward and grabbing his collar. ‘All you do these days is suck up attention like some pathetic little leech. Ever since Sarutobi-sensei recommended you for this damn Jonin promotion, you’ve been acting like the ground you walk is painted gold.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘ _That’s_ what you’re so pissed about? What happened to the whole ‘I wouldn’t be so stupid as to cry over something as pointless as Shinobi rank’ thing, huh? I know you’re insecure about your status as a Senju, but that doesn’t mean you can turn around and start having a go at me for it! It isn’t my fault Sarutobi-sensei picked me instead of you!’

Tsunade’s eyes flashed dangerously, suddenly very conscious of the crystal pendant hanging around her neck.

‘I’m not pissed about that,’ Tsunade growled, tightening her grip around his collar. ‘I’m pissed because you’re so caught up in this stupid hero worship, you can’t see that having empty condolences shoved down my throat is not helping anything!’

‘You’re being unbelievably ungrateful!’ Jiraiya snarled. ‘We’ve been tiptoeing around you for days, practically crawling over broken glass to at least try and raise a smile, and you think that’s _empty_? What do you think we’re trying to pull here?’

‘I didn’t mean you!’ Tsunade cried. ‘I meant everyone else! Everyone around the Village who keeps insisting they know exactly how I feel. Having strangers coming up to me and asking me to bare my soul, wanting me to share the most painful experience of my _life_ with them. People who didn’t even know her!’

Orochimaru felt his heart rate quicken. This wasn’t like their other fights. It wasn’t petty, or baseless, or light-hearted. It was more like the fight he’d had with Tsunade when he’d been sent to retrieve her – it was heavy, personal, and each word they threw was weighted. He didn’t like it.

Jiraiya gripped her wrist, his eyes pained. ‘Tsunade, you know we can’t do anything about them. Komako was…she was like a mother to so many people around the Village, so many people you’ve never even met. They’re all grieving, too. I know I am.’

‘How could you possibly understand what this feels like? Tsunade spat. ‘You don’t even know what it’s like to have a mother!’

She regretted the words the moment they tumbled out of her mouth, but the damage was already done.

Orochimaru stood up, his tea cup shattering as it fell to the ground. He grabbed her rather roughly by the shoulder and pulled her away from Jiraiya, his jaw clenched.

‘That’s enough. Both of you,’ he snarled.

Tsunade was shaking, unable to look at Jiraiya’s face. He was staring at her, his mouth open in a silent gasp, and he felt something sharp jab him right through the chest. _How could she even say such a thing_?

‘I know emotions are high right now,’ Orochimaru said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. ‘And I know we are all dealing with our own baggage. Some more than others. But that doesn’t give either of you the excuse to have a public shouting match, you hear me?’

Jiraiya and Tsunade looked around, and sure enough, several people were stood staring at them. They were whispering amongst themselves, clearly shocked that the Senju heir and the young man who had rescued two Chuunin were having a raging argument in the middle of the afternoon.

‘Now,’ Orochimaru breathed, ‘I’m going to pay that shop vendor for the cup I just broke, and you two are going to cool off before I dunk you both in the river. Got it?’

Neither of them said anything, both breathing heavily. Tsunade’s fists were clenched and Jiraiya’s lips were set in a tight line. Despite their differences, they’d never seriously been at odds before. It was frightening, the bad energy crackling like electricity in the air.

Before Orochimaru could make good on his word and pay for the cup, a young Chuunin materialised before them.

‘Orochimaru?’ she said, looking at him. ‘I’ve been sent by Lord Third – he wants you to report to him as soon as you can.’

*

When Orochimaru arrived at Hiruzen’s office, still feeling anxious from the argument, he found three other Jonin inside, too. One was Sakumo Hatake, whom he recognised immediately; one was Chiharu Nara, his sensei at the Academy and a recent mother to one Shikaku Nara; and the other was a blonde man he didn’t completely recognise. Hiruzen smiled when Orochimaru entered.

‘Did I keep you waiting?’ Orochimaru asked, closing the door behind him. He had to make sure Tsunade and Jiraiya wouldn’t tear each other’s heads off before he left, but luckily, it seemed the pair were eager to go their separate ways.

‘Not at all, Orochimaru. Please, come forward,’ Hiruzen said, gesturing him to stand between Chiharu and Sakumo. Orochimaru nodded in a brief hello, and Sakumo grinned at him.

‘Wow. You’re no longer that puny brat I once knew, are you, Orochimaru?’ Chiharu said, looking him up and down.

‘Perhaps not, Sensei,’ Orochimaru said. ‘But I can’t say I’ve changed that much from back then.’

‘Good to hear it. You’re Konoha’s shining star, don’t forget,’ Chiharu smiled.

‘Indeed,’ Hiruzen said. ‘And that is why I’ve gathered the four of you here today. I’m sure you’re all aware that the Genin exam occurred this morning, are you not?’

Everyone nodded accept Orochimaru, who was fairly surprised. If it was the Genin exam, it meant Nawaki would have taken it. He was surprised Tsunade failed to mention it. But, not wanting to show himself up in front of the others, he merely looked at Hiruzen impassively and waited for him to continue.

‘Now, I’ve spoken to all of you at some point regarding the Genin squads we wish to assemble,’ Hiruzen continued. ‘Of course, it is very short notice for Chiharu, given Komako’s recent passing, but I have the upmost faith that she’ll fit the bill.’

‘Well, I’ve had enough experience with snot-nosed brats in my time,’ she sighed.

‘Regardless, for all of you, this will be your first time managing a squad of Genin. I can’t say it’s the easiest task – I know that well enough – but it can be exceptionally rewarding,’ Hiruzen said, smiling warmly at Orochimaru. ‘In any case, you’ll be happy to know that this year’s Genin all passed with fairly good scores, meaning you’ll be able to meet them officially tomorrow.’

Orochimaru felt a flare of anxiety creep up his spine at those words. In fact, the only one who seemed actively excited was the blonde man he’d never spoken to. He bit his lip the same way Jiraiya did when he was resisting the urge to expel a flurry of excited catchphrases, and clenched his fist at his side.

‘Oh, man!’ the man said, his blue eyes alight with eagerness. ‘My own team! I can hardly believe it!’

‘That’s the spirit, Reo,’ Hiruzen beamed. ‘For those of you who haven’t met him yet, this is Reo Namikaze, a recent Jonin – much like yourself, Orochimaru.’

‘And a recent father, as it goes,’ Reo smiled. He was handsome and seemed to give off a positive sort of energy, again, rather similar to Jiraiya.

‘I’m a fairly recent mother myself,’ Chiharu said, absent-mindedly rubbing her stomach which still bore the scar of the operation. ‘What’s yours, Namikaze?’

‘His name is Minato,’ Reo beamed. ‘He’s so adorable, probably the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen! I can’t wait to tell him all about my Genin!’

‘No guarantee he’ll understand if he’s still just a nipper,’ Sakumo smirked.

Hiruzen cleared his throat, reverting the attention back to him. ‘As I was saying, you’ll be able to meet the Genin tomorrow. The Teams I discussed with you previously have not been changed – it seems my predictions were right on the money, as they usually are – but I’ll give you each a dossier detailing each student so you can familiarise yourself with them before tomorrow.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Chiharu said, lazily stretching her hands behind her head. ‘Say, Lord Third, does this mean I’ll be excused from active duty if I’ve got a bunch of brats I need to ferry around the place?’

Hiruzen looked at her rather sternly. ‘No, it does not. You’ll still have to go on missions, Chiharu. The new Genin need experience, after all.’

‘Nothing too dangerous, I hope?’ Reo asked. ‘They’re only kids, after all.’

‘I ended up in a fight with a pair of A-rank Shinobi when I was 7,’ Orochimaru said coolly, remembering the mission that put Jiraiya in hospital. ‘Sometimes, one needs to be faced with difficult missions in order to grow stronger.’

‘Yes, but that was meant to be a simple C-rank mission, if I recall,’ Hiruzen said, shuddering slightly at the memory. ‘I trust you all to make the right judgement calls – keep a close eye on your Teams, but give them some freedom to grow and develop into fine young Shinobi. It goes without saying that they ought to be steered away from any serious danger, however.’

‘Until you chuck a bunch of them into the Forest of Death for a brutal battle royale,’ Sakumo said, his tone caught between sarcasm and amusement.

‘Well,’ Hiruzen said, somewhat uncomfortably, ‘by that point, one would hope they could handle it.’

‘That’s a way off, yet,’ Chiharu said breezily. ‘I mean, unless there are some standout candidates. Anyone catch your eye already, Lord Third?’

Hiruzen glanced down at the stack of paper in his desk, sighing to himself. ‘To be honest, not really. Privately, I had high hopes for young Nawaki and a girl from the Uchiha clan by the name of Atsuko, but while they passed, it wasn’t exactly a jaw dropping display.’

‘Not like you then, eh?’ Chiharu said, nudging Orochimaru.

‘Well, we can’t all be prodigies,’ Hiruzen said, a touch of nostalgia in his tone. ‘In any case, that is all I require of you today. I’m trusting the four of you to look after these children – and pass on the Will of Fire, as it were. I won’t lie and say it’s an easy job, but you are some of the best Konoha has to offer.’

After they were dismissed, Orochimaru wandered absent-mindedly from the Mansion with his nose in the dossier. Nawaki’s statistics were slightly above average, but nothing like Tsunade’s when she was his age. His taijutsu was good, however, far superior to the other two Genin he’d be overseeing. One was the aforementioned Atsuko Uchiha, who seemed to be adept in genjutsu, and another boy named Kenji Nakamura, who had the highest score in ninjutsu. It appeared his squad balanced itself out by being niche in specific areas, though that came with its share of disadvantages. It certainly meant he’d have to carefully tailor their training. Sighing at the large amount of work that had suddenly befallen him, Orochimaru barely looked up in time to dodge Sakumo, who had paused by the entrance to the Mansion.

‘Whoa!’ Sakumo said, as Orochimaru side-stepped hastily. ‘Easy there, kid.’ His expression changed when he saw it was Orochimaru, turning from care-free to serious.

‘My apologies, Hatake,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I was miles away.’

‘Ah, busy getting to know your students?’ Sakumo said, holding up his own dossier. ‘Can’t say mine have blown me away, at least according to this. But people are worth more than statistics and grades, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I…suppose so,’ Orochimaru said. He hadn’t spoken to Sakumo since they’d returned from the Land of Mountains, and he wouldn’t exactly count him a friend. His social awkwardness kicked in almost immediately, and he was at a loss concerning what to say. Luckily, Sakumo came to the rescue. As he always did.

‘How you holding up? You’ve had quite the eventful time of it, eh?’ he asked, as the two started to walk from the Mansion. Orochimaru fell into step with him.

‘Certainly better than Jiraiya and Tsunade,’ Orochimaru mumbled. ‘I should be grateful, really. If my time with the ANBU has taught me anything, it’s resilience.’

Sakumo sucked in his teeth. ‘Hmm. That’s one word for it.’

‘Desensitisation is another,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I read a report published by a medical ninja hailing from Kumogakure the other day, who theorised that the more time we Shinobi spend in the line of fire, the less affected we become by the horrors we see.’

Sakumo was slightly surprised by Orochimaru’s choice in conversation, but he assumed the young man wasn’t the best at casual chit-chat. ‘Well, that may be true. But in my opinion, taking a life doesn’t get any easier, no matter how many times you do it. If anything, it weighs one down even more.’

‘You think?’ Orochimaru asked curiously.

‘Sure. I mean, I can’t speak for everyone, but the way I see it, we’re hardwired to avoid killing our own kind. That’s why it’s so hard the first time, second time, or even a hundred times round,’ Sakumo said.

Orochimaru fell silent, absorbing his words. He didn’t feel like that. It took him everything just to spare that young girl, Aki, back at the Inoshishi’s hideout. If anything, it he was growing concerned he was hardwired _to_ kill his own kind. He wasn’t like Jiraiya. When he had killed Ren, the ice release user, he hardly felt a thing. Meanwhile, Jiraiya, despite his bravado and attempts at a brave face for Tsunade’s sake, was quite clearly distraught at the blood on his hands. _Am I really so different from him? So different that taking a life means nothing to me now?_

Sakumo eyed him cautiously, concerned about the thoughtful expression on his face. ‘Like I said, I can’t speak for everyone,’ he repeated. ‘And to be honest, until we have something we can recognise as peace, we won’t be stopping the killing any time soon. If you have a way to deal with it that doesn’t involve freezing up, then I’d say it’s a good thing.’

Orochimaru wasn’t so sure.

‘Anyway, you worried about your friends?’ Sakumo said, steering the conversation away from the dark musings of murder. It was too pleasant an afternoon to address such complex matters, especially when Orochimaru seemed so preoccupied.

‘Yes,’ Orochimaru admitted. Saying it was a weight off his chest – it wasn’t like he had anyone else to talk to. He didn’t have friends outside of Tsunade and Jiraiya, and Hiruzen was too busy most of the time to lend a listening ear. ‘They’re…different. I know it’s only been a week and I can’t expect them to get over what happened so quickly, but I…I hardly think about it, anymore. I can block it out. Move on. Those two, though? Tsunade’s temper is more out of control than usual, and I catch Jiraiya staring off into the distance with an expression on his face that I can only describe as distraught. And they don’t mix well when they’re feeling like that.’

Sakumo sighed, hands in his pockets as they strolled down a narrow street. ‘They’re wounded, Orochimaru.’

‘They only sustained mild injuries.’

‘No, I meant psychologically wounded,’ Sakumo said. ‘That report you mentioned – desensitisation, right? Well, that can be a psychological wound, too. To see and endure so many terrible and violent acts that it no longer impacts you is the same thing as losing the ability to recognise such things as terrible and violent. By no fault of your own, of course. But it sounds to me like your Jiraiya and Tsunade are dealing with their wounds in a different way to you. You say you can block it out and move on – that’s one method, though not an entirely healthy one. For them, they need to feel it. To go through it. Tsunade saw her mother die in front of her, Orochimaru. And Jiraiya had to take a life. If they came out unchanged after that, I’d wonder if they were human at all.’

‘But it feels like everything is broken,’ Orochimaru admitted, the words flowing out before he could stop them. ‘They’re not…they aren’t how they used to be. It’s like they’re out of sync. It frightens me.’

‘Everything _is_ broken, to them,’ Sakumo said. ‘But that does not mean it won’t be fixed again, too.’

‘What do you mean?’

Sakumo sighed again, glancing up at the clouds. ‘In my experience, the things that break us don’t keep us down for long. We Shinobi endure – always have. I’m not saying that your friends will heal overnight, because what happened to them was traumatic. But with the right help and the right processes, I can’t see any reason why they won’t be ‘in sync’ again.’

Orochimaru looked at Sakumo out of the corner of his eye. How did he get so wise? What did he have to go through to understand such weighty matters? It was both humbling and saddening to be in his presence.

‘I just…’ Orochimaru swallowed. ‘I suppose I don’t want to lose them. I hope you don’t think me immature or melodramatic for saying such a thing.’

Sakumo smiled at him. ‘Of course I don’t. They’re your precious friends – of course you don’t want to lose them. But they haven’t gone anywhere, Orochimaru. You know that, don’t you?’

Orochimaru nodded slowly. They were still there. They were a little broken, a little wounded, and a little wiser, but they were still there.

‘Then I’d stop worrying so much about them and start focusing on moving forward,’ Sakumo said, lightly tapping him on the head with his dossier. ‘And in this case, it means reading up on your Genin. You’re about to be responsible for three little blisters – so get cracking!’

*

Tsunade slammed the door when she arrived home, still fuming from her argument with Jiraiya. She felt ashamed for what she had said to him regarding his mother, but she stood by everything else. From her perspective, Jiraiya wasn’t even trying to see her point of view. Huffing, she threw off her shoes and dumped them in the corner.

‘Nice to see you too, Tsuna,’ Mito said sternly, watching as her granddaughter stomped around the house like a disgruntled baby elephant.

‘I’ve had a bad day,’ Tsunade said, not even bothering to look at her. All she wanted was to go to her room, flop on her bed, and crawl under the covers. She would apologise to Jiraiya tomorrow when she’d calmed down – but only if she got on in return.

‘That may be, but could you please put on a happy face?’ Mito hissed under her breath.

‘Not you too,’ Tsunade groaned. ‘Seems like all and sundry are wanting me to plaster on a smile and parade around without a care in the world at the moment.’

Mito frowned at her. ‘You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?’

‘Huh?’

Mito sighed and shook her head. ‘It was Nawaki’s Genin exam today, Tsunade. I told you last night.’

Guilt flared up from Tsunade’s gut. ‘I…I guess it slipped my mind. I’m sorry, Grandmother. But did he pass? Did he do well?’

The question was answered when the boy in question came sprinting into the porch area at about a thousand miles an hour, his eyes alight with joy.

‘Big sis!’ he exclaimed, grabbing both of her hands and jumping up and down with excitement. ‘Guess what! I passed! I actually _passed_! Sarutobi was there watching the whole thing but I didn’t freeze up or get nervous or anything! Can you believe it? I’m a Genin!’

Startled, Tsunade gazed down at him, trying to process the news and pull herself out of her bad mood. Mustering a smile, she beamed at him, ruffling his hair.

‘Aw, well I never had any doubt,’ she winked, as he batted her off in annoyance.

‘You can’t ruffle my hair like that anymore, Tsu,’ Nawaki pouted. ‘Not now I’m a proper Shinobi. You gotta show me respect!’

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, a coprophagous grin on her face. ‘Oh, is that so? Guess that means I won’t be able to do _this_ anymore!’

Nawaki shrieked as Tsunade grabbed his cheek and pinched it teasingly, sticking out her tongue at him. Nawaki struggled away from her but she caught him under his arm.

‘Argh! Get off! Grandma, help!’ Nawaki yelped, his little limbs entangling with Tsunade’s as he tried to escape.

Mito lent against the door frame and just chuckled at Nawaki’s indignant expression, shaking her head. Sometimes, she rather felt like they were both young children still, rather than 15 years old and 11 years old - especially when they behaved like that.

Tsunade, grinning, pinched his sides and tickled him until tears of laughter were streaming down his face. Nawaki tried to get away from her, saying such phrases as _one day, I’m gonna be big enough to beat you and then you’ll be sorry,_ and _a real ninja never gives up!_ Eventually, though, he became breathless with laughter, and had to admit defeat.

‘You’re the absolute worst, you know that?’ he said, rubbing his cheek.

‘And you’re still a twerp,’ Tsunade winked, flicking his nose for good measure.

Despite himself, Nawaki smiled at her. He hadn’t seen much of Tsunade after she returned from her fated mission, and when he did, she usually went straight to her room. Mito reassured him and said it was merely ‘teenaged ailments’ and he’d ‘understand when he was older’, but he knew it was her way of dealing with the grief. But, in moments like that when she would playfully mess around, he almost forgot that Komako was gone at all.

‘Come on, you two,’ Mito said, and Nawaki scrambled to his feet and thrust his nose in the air. ‘I’ve made a -’

‘ – cake?’ Tsunade and Nawaki said in unison.

Mito pouted in exactly the same way Nawaki did. ‘Why, am I that predictable?’

‘I mean, you always make cakes when there’s a special occasion, Grandma,’ Nawaki giggled.

‘And when you’re feeling bored,’ Tsunade said.

‘Or sad!’ Nawaki piped up.

‘Or even happy,’ Tsunade added.

‘Or -’

‘Okay!’ Mito interrupted, holding up her hands. ‘When you two stop guzzling them down like you’re a pair of starving hippos, I’ll quit making them. But until then, expect cake every day of the week!’

‘Wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Tsunade smiled.

Mito put her arms around both her grandchildren and led them into kitchen, where a generous spread of food was waiting – despite the fact it was still the middle of the afternoon. Tsunade’s smile slipped off her face slightly when her eyes fell on Komako’s empty chair. She bristled slightly, remembering her own graduation meal. Tobirama had been there too, along with Orochimaru and Jiraiya. Her family was growing smaller. For one moment, she thought of inviting the two boys just to bulk out the table a little, but she remembered with a sinking feeling the words she exchanged with Jiraiya.

‘Why the long face, big sis?’ Nawaki said. ‘You expecting more food?’

‘No, no!’ Tsunade said brightly, doing a fine job of pretending everything was fine. ‘It looks amazing, as usual. Thank you, Grandmother.’

Mito patted her cheek gently and sat down too, along with Nawaki. It took about 5 seconds before Nawaki was already brandishing the knife, getting ready to cut a huge hunk out of the cake.

‘Wait!’ Mito exclaimed. ‘You have to make a wish!’

‘Huh?’ Nawaki said, lowering the knife. ‘But it isn’t my birthday for another 8 months!’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Mito declared. ‘Any cake cutting on a special occasion deserves a wish.’

‘Since when?’ Tsunade snorted.

‘Since I said so,’ Mito decided. ‘I’m an old woman and therefore I can make the rules. Come along, Nawaki. Make the biggest and best wish you can muster!’

Nawaki, beaming down at the cake, scrunched his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks.

‘Blimey, you don’t have to hold your breath,’ Tsunade chuckled.

‘Shush! I’m thinking!’ Nawaki said, his voice tight with the effort of keeping his breath.

After several seconds, Nawaki finally relented and let out a long puff of air.

‘Okay!’ he grinned. ‘Let the cake cutting commence!’

For the first time in a while, Tsunade was feeling like her life was a little brighter. Nawaki was over the moon about making Genin – and would be even more so when he discovered Orochimaru was his Sensei – and Mito seemed glad to have her grandchildren safe and secure under her roof. As the three of them sat there, acutely sensing the space left by Komako and Tobirama, but smiling all the same, Tsunade felt a warmth in her heart she thought she’d left back in the Inoshishi’s hideout. It wasn’t all bad. She still had her grandmother and brother. She still had her best friends. She would apologise to Jiraiya tomorrow, concentrate on her studies, and work on getting back to normal.

It was only when, several hours later, the door opened with a bang that the bright illusion was shattered. Tsunade almost rolled her eyes at the timing. Of course, history would repeat itself. At her graduation meal, her father had gate-crashed and ruined it. It was obvious that it would happen again. Only this time, Tobirama and her mother weren’t there to fight on her behalf. She clenched her fists under the table. _If he tries to ruin Nawaki’s day, I am not going to hold back._

‘Taichi,’ Mito said, her tone stern, ‘I expected you back a lot earlier.’

Taichi glowered at her through puffy eyes. They were bloodshot with grief, sleep deprivation, and alcohol.

‘You’re not my mother, Mito,’ he said, his words slurred. ‘Besides, I’m here now, aren’t I? Here to offer my congratulations to my son.’

Nawaki winced as Taichi collapsed in the seat next to him and ruffled his hair. He never minded when Tsunade did it, but Taichi was rougher, more awkward, like he’d failed to bond with him. That much was true, really. Nawaki fought for his approval for as long as he could remember, and never received anything in return.

‘You did a good job, son,’ Taichi said, reaching over to grab a plate. ‘Though it took you a little while longer than I would have hoped.’

Nawaki’s face fell, and he stared into his cup. He already knew that. He knew that Tsunade had graduated when she was 6, almost half his age, and nearly at the top of the class. He knew she became a Chuunin before she was even a teenager. He knew she was a medical prodigy, a taijutsu master, and a genius to boot. He already knew that. He didn’t need Taichi reminding him.

‘You’re drunk,’ Tsunade said, her arms folded. ‘Aren’t you?’

Taichi looked up at her reproachfully. ‘Last time I checked, Tsuna, I was your father. And as your father, I see no reason to explain myself to you.’

Tsunade grinded her teeth together, wishing nothing more than to shout him down, but she bit her tongue for Nawaki’s sake.

Tension lurked under the table like a shadowy beast salivating before its prey. Taichi did little else but stare at Komako’s empty seat, his hand reaching for the sake bottle and pouring cup after cup as if it was a mechanical habit. Before, Taichi hardly ever drank. He found that it dulled his senses, and since he was a prideful man who wanted others to think him strong, he steered clear from alcohol. However, after Komako’s death, he found little else would soothe the pain. He would drink until her face swam before his eyes, memories of her words and touch overwhelming his senses as if she was still there. He stopped caring what people thought of him. He had allied himself with Danzo. He needed little else.

‘So,’ Mito said, trying to snatch back a fleeting moment of normality, ‘what did they examine you on, Nawaki? Was it the Transformation jutsu, like Tsuna?’

‘Yes,’ Nawaki said, his voice small. He was so nervous around Taichi he could barely speak. ‘I – I transformed into Sarutobi cus’ I know him so well, but most of my classmates chose the other examiners. Think they were scared about getting it so wrong that they’d insult him.’

‘Well, nothing could be worse than Jiraiya’s shambolic display,’ Tsunade sighed. ‘Honestly, it was a wonder he passed.’

‘You’d never have guessed now, looking at him,’ Mito said, pride creeping into her tone. ‘He’s grown into a fine young man – and a fine young Shinobi, too. I reckon Jiraiya will surprise us all, you know.’

Taichi muttered something under his breath, but no one paid any attention.

‘Yeah, I guess he’s gotten pretty good,’ Tsunade said slowly. She didn’t really think about it a lot, but out of the three of them, Jiraiya had certainly developed the most. He was training in senjutsu, had secured a powerful summoning, and, much to Tsunade’s irritation, had grown much, much taller than her. She remembered when she had a few inches on him and would tease him. Now, he was easily 6ft, and still growing. He was a lot broader, too. A lot more…everything, really. _Still an idiot, though_ , Tsunade thought, slumping her chin in her hand.

‘I think it’s rather promising,’ Mito beamed. ‘We need new blood. Dear Sarutobi will have to pass the baton at some point, and it’s good to have potential Hokage candidates in the making.’

‘Jiraiya is hardly Hokage material,’ Tsunade snorted. ‘Oro, maybe. He’s smart and good under pressure, and he’s still the best in our generation. Or if not him, maybe someone like Sakumo Hatake.’

‘Ooh, yes,’ Mito said enthusiastically. ‘He certainly strikes me as the reliable sort. But don’t rule yourself out either, Tsuna. You’re an exceptional Kunoichi yourself, and we’ve never had a female Hokage before!’

Tsunade pulled a face. ‘Oh, definitely not for me, thanks. I’ve seen Sarutobi-sensei’s desk. I could not deal with all that damn paperwork.’

Mito chuckled, shaking her head. ‘There’s more to being Hokage than _paperwork_ , Tsunade. Besides, it’s in your blood, isn’t it? We’ve had two Senjus take on the title before – and I’ve no doubt another will take it on further down the line.’

Nawaki, who was squirming in his seat like he was about to burst, slammed his hands down on the table.

‘Nawaki?’ Mito squawked. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

‘If any Senju is gonna become the Hokage, it’s gonna be me!’ he exclaimed, his eyes alight.

Tsunade and Mito blinked at him, quite startled. He was breathing heavily, with determination etched on his face that the pair of them had never seen before.

‘I – well – that’s certainly a bold dream, Nawaki,’ Mito said, recovering faster than her granddaughter. ‘And a noble one, too. I’ve no doubt you can do whatever you put your mind to – if you want to become the Hokage, then -’

Mito was cut off when Taichi, quite unexpectedly, started laughing. It was a dry, throaty laugh, devoid of all humour and so unsettling that more Nawaki shrank away from him in his seat.

‘Forgive me,’ Taichi said, wiping away a non-existent tear. ‘I just can’t help but see the amusement in this touching exchange.’

Tsunade pressed her lips together. ‘What are you talking about?’

Taichi took a long sip from his sake cup, releasing it on the wooden table with a clatter. He wiped away the dregs that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and leant back in his seat with a creak. ‘I’m talking about the fact that becoming the Hokage is no easy feat. You talk about it so flippantly, as if anyone can achieve such a title.’

‘It’s better to encourage than to disparage, Taichi,’ Mito said, a bite to her tone.

‘And it’s better to be honest than fill the boy’s head with false hope,’ Taichi said.

‘It isn’t false hope,’ Tsunade spat. ‘If Nawaki thinks he can do it, then he can. It’s the same with anything, and with anyone. It doesn’t matter who you are. If you put your mind to something, you can absolutely do it.’

Nawaki mustered a small, grateful smile at his sister, but it was short lived.

‘Don’t be a fool, Tsunade,’ Taichi said, his voice raised. ‘Only the best of the best can become a Kage-level Shinobi, you know that. Besides, it’s not like Nawaki here is brimming with talent, is he?’

Nawaki flushed red and Tsunade’s eyebrow twitched.

‘Now, let’s not say such things,’ Mito said lightly. ‘It is good to have a goal in mind, no matter where you are currently. Some people just take a little longer to blossom, that’s all. Like young Jiraiya!’

Mito’s tone was bright but the mood around the table was not. Taichi had switched from glowering at Komako’s empty seat to glowering at his daughter opposite him. Nawaki nibbled his lip nervously, wishing he’d never said anything in the first place.

‘Talent isn’t everything,’ Tsunade snarled. ‘My latest mission taught me that much. You can accumulate all the power and talent in the world into one space, one person, even, and it still won’t be able to change anything. There are more important things in life than talent.’

Taichi rolled his eyes. ‘My, you sound like your bumbling fool of a sensei.’

‘Must we really discuss this now?’ Mito said weakly.

‘I am merely ensuring my son isn’t disappointed by his own weakness,’ Taichi said. ‘If anything, I’m sparing him. Do you know where he placed, you two? In the rankings?’

Mito and Tsunade exchanged a look. Nawaki balled his fists in his lap, not looking at them.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Tsunade decided.

‘Oh, but it does,’ Taichi said, a nasty smile on his face. ‘These rankings are a good indicator about a Shinobi’s future prowess, which is exactly why we conduct them in such a way. But I’m guessing, judging by your expressions, that Nawaki failed to mention?’

‘He passed,’ Tsunade said, her teeth gritted. ‘That’s all that matters.’

‘He came seventh,’ Taichi said, disgust in his tone. ‘Out of nine. Can you imagine it? The grandson of the First Hokage, the most powerful man this world has ever know, not even making the top three? A person like that does not have what it takes to be Hokage.’ He turned to stare down Nawaki, whose head was bowed in shame. ‘And he never will.’

Tsunade stood up, her palms smacking against the table and making the crockery clatter together. ‘Shut your mouth!’

‘Or what?’ Taichi grimaced. ‘I’m merely being realistic. There’s nothing wrong with that.’

‘You’re not being realistic! You’re being an arsehole, like always!’ Tsunade shouted, her fingertips pressing down on the surface of the table and turning white. She herself paled when she realised what she had just said. A dull, sick feeling spread from her gut to her throat, feeling as though it was about to choke her. She had never spoken to him like that before. Even when he’d pushed her to her limits, she had never actually thrown harsh words back at him with as much anger as she did then. But as the anger dissipated, fear took its place. She swallowed thickly as Taichi’s withering glare settled on her. She had seen that look so often. And it what followed used to terrify her.

To her surprise, Taichi merely leant forward, poured himself another drink, and drained the cup in own movement. ‘Mind your manners, Tsuna. It does not do well to behave like that towards me.’

Tsunade was shaking slightly, still on her feet. ‘I…don’t regret what I said.’

‘Tsuna,’ Mito murmured, her tone warning.

Taichi smirked. ‘I thought not. I know you’ve always wanted to snap at me like that. Part of me is actually impressed that you had the courage to do so. But my point still stands. There is no advantage in entertaining pointless dreams that will distract him from the task at hand – namely becoming someone worthy of the Senju title.’

‘He already is,’ Mito said, leaning over to put her hand over Nawaki’s clenched fists. He was clearly trying his best not to cry. Like he Tsunade, he had learnt the hard way that Taichi couldn’t stand tears.

‘Not with a grade like that,’ Taichi shrugged.

‘For goodness sake!’ Tsunade said, her voice strained in frustrations. ‘It’s _just_ a bloody Genin exam! It’s one measly grade! It does nothing to represent his potential! The Academy only scratches the surface, and you can’t categorise your own son like that – not like you did me. I won’t let you!’

Taichi eyed her coolly. ‘Won’t you?’

Tsunade flared her nostrils. ‘No. I won’t. You’re not worthy of being a father, least of all to Nawaki. He’s got something in him worth rooting for, poor grade or not. Like…like Jiraiya.’

Very slowly, Taichi eased his way to his feet. The bottle of sake toppled on the table, empty. ‘I’m glad to see you so impassioned. But that’s probably because you’re trying convince yourself more than me, aren’t you?’

‘Taichi, stop this,’ Mito said, but he ignored her.

‘You’re convincing yourself that Academy grades mean nothing, that your ranking means nothing, and that you missing that Jonin promotion means nothing,’ Taichi continued. ‘You’re saying these things aloud to persuade your mind away from the truth.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Tsunade snapped.

‘I’m talking about the fact that if you’d worked a little harder at the Academy, become a little stronger, and tried a little more, you would have been capable of saving your mother,’ Taichi said, his tone low and dangerous.

Tsunade felt as though she’d been punched in a barely-healed wound.

‘Taichi!’ Mito cried. ‘How – how _dare_ you! How can you even stand there and think to say such an awful thing!’

‘I mean it,’ Taichi said, the volume of his voice increasing. ‘If she had fulfilled her potential instead of messing around with that class clown and burying her nose in books, she might have had the power to save Komako’s life!’

‘The world doesn’t work like that!’ Mito snarled, her anger overcoming any sensitivity she might have had for Nawaki’s big day. ‘As much as my heart breaks for Komako and as much as I wish she was coming home, my mind has _never_ reached such conclusions!’

‘Because you are blinded by adoration!’ Taichi bellowed. ‘You think the two of them so precious that you can’t see their own shortcomings!’

‘I think of them as my grandchildren,’ Mito cried. ‘And I will love them no matter what happens, no matter the choices they make, and no matter something as trivial as Genin rankings! The fact that _you_ can’t screams more about your poor standing as a father than them as individuals!’

‘Grandma,’ Nawaki whimpered, tugging his sleeve. ‘Why are your edges glowing?’

Mito was breathing hard, barely listening. Her hands were shaking and she was certain she hadn’t felt anger on that level for years. But it wasn’t all her anger. It was from something else, something deep inside. Something that was leaking out.

Taichi took a step backwards, feeling chakra pulsate slightly in the air. Tsunade, who was doing her darndest to recover from that low blow, gasped when she saw what Nawaki was talking about. It was barely perceptible, but there seemed to be a faint, orangey-red glow vibrating around Mito’s trembling body.

‘Grandmother,’ Tsunade whispered, moving forward and taking her hand. It felt hot, unnaturally so. ‘What’s happening? Why are you…’ she trailed off, understanding dawning on her face.

Mito, as an Uzumaki, had a unique charka able to supress the Kyuubi. Her talents at Fuinjutsu made her the perfect candidate for being a Jinchuriki, and in all her years as one, there had never been a major incident. The strength of the seal was enough to hold back the Kyuubi in its entirety. The only time it weakened majorly was when she gave birth to Komako, which is why she and Hashirama only had one child. The rest of her time was spent supressing the Kyuubi’s intense hatred by, as she put it, _filling herself with love._ But there were moments when the hatred would bubble up. When it would touch the surface and threaten to spill over. Tsunade had never seen it herself, since her Grandmother was so adept at Fuinjutsu, but she could tell immediately what was happening. There was a bad energy in the air.

‘The Kyuubi…’ Taichi murmured, his bloodshot eyes finally wide enough to show genuine expression. He took several more steps back, quite transfixed.

‘Grandmother, listen to me,’ Tsunade said, gripping her hand as Mito struggled to steady her breathing. ‘I know you’re angry right now, because I am, too. But this isn’t you. It’s the Kyuubi. It’s seen its opportunity and it wants to try and do something. You need to focus. You need to supress it.’

Mito’s breathing was jagged and irregular. ‘Believe me, Tsuna, I am well aware.’

Tsunade looked at her nervously. ‘Then…you have it under control?’

‘Of course I do,’ Mito said. ‘I just wanted to see if that man still had the capacity for an emotion other than hatred. And it appears he does. Fear.’

Tsunade glanced over at Taichi, and sure enough, his large hands were shaking and his skin was waxy and pale. She had never seen him look scared before. And by Mito, of all people. A sick part of her was satisfied. She kept hold of Mito’s hand as she closed her eyes and focused all her energy on the seal, breathing in and out. As the glow receded, and Nawaki sighed with relief, Tsunade turned to her father.

‘Can’t you see what you’ve done?’ she said, gesturing around the room. ‘You’ve ruined it. Everything you touch, you break. Hell, I almost feel _sorry_ for you. Sorry that you can’t appreciate your own son’s achievements and celebrate with what’s left of your family.’

Taichi, having recovered slightly from his scare, turned a deep puce. He clenched his fists. ‘You cannot talk to me in that way.’

‘Oh, but I can,’ Tsunade said, her hands trembling. ‘Because I’ve just worked it out – I’m the heir to the Senju estate. When I come of age, all of this will be mine. And that also makes me the Head of the Family right now, does it not, Grandmother?’

Mito, who had sat down to recover her energy from the Kyuubi’s immense chakra, nodded. ‘Technically, yes. You are Komako’s firstborn. Since myself and your father married into the clan, we are not strictly ‘Senjus’.’

Tsunade nodded. ‘Guess that means I’m in charge now, doesn’t it, Father?’

Taichi lost his temper. He marched up to her, grabbing her by her collar. Spittle flew into Tsunade’s face as he started to yell at her, but looked him in the eye defiantly.

‘You insolent little bitch!’ Taichi roared. The smell of alcohol assaulted Tsunade’s senses and made her eyes water. ‘You dare try that against me? I am your father! I raised you! I trained you! You cannot disrespect me in this manner, lest you face the consequences!’

Tsunade grabbed his wrist and shoved him off her, thankful for her enhanced strength. ‘What consequences?’ she scoffed. ‘You can’t lay a finger on me anymore. And I wasn’t raised by you. I was raised by Mother and Grandmother. I was trained by my sensei. I don’t owe you anything, and I’m not going to let you ruin anything else in this household again.’

‘Even as you stand up to me, you’re shaking like a frightened little girl!’ Taichi snarled. ‘You can’t expect me to take you seriously when your knees are knocking together, can you?’

Tsunade swallowed thickly. ‘I am frightened. I’m not denying that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t say my piece.’

‘And what, pray tell, is that?’ Taichi shouted, making Nawaki wince.

‘I have spent years fearing you, being angry at you, and feeling guilty for not loving you like a daughter should love her father,’ Tsunade said. ‘Because no matter what did and no matter how much you pushed me, all I ever wanted was to _please_ you. I was a child. I was a child who was breaking herself to live up to your ridiculous expectations, and as an adult, you thought that was acceptable. I’m sad because I got cheated out of a parent who should have loved me despite my failings. And it hurts, not because of what you did, but because I didn’t deserve it. Neither did my mother, and neither does Nawaki.’

Taichi stared at her as she defied him, his words lost.

‘And I don’t know when it happened,’ Tsunade continued, her tone almost wistful. ‘But I…I can hardly feel anything for you anymore. Not fear, anger, or guilt. Not love. Not anymore. And probably never again.’

For a moment, Taichi’s expression was so earth-shatteringly upset that Tsunade thought guilt had settled on her shoulders again. But it passed. Like everything always does.

‘I want you out of this Mansion,’ Tsunade said. ‘And I want you to stay away from me, Grandmother, and Nawaki. As Head of this little family, I have that sort of power, now. If you come near this wing, I will not hesitate to stop you. Now, get out. Get out before Grandmother lets the Kyuubi tear you to shreds.’

And Taichi did leave. He had no words to shoot back at his daughter. None that would have any impact, anyway. Tsunade’s fear towards her father never truly left, because such things can never be completely shifted from the walls of one’s heart. But at least he wouldn’t darken the doorway of their home again, snuff out the light, and make his children shy away from him for fear of his anger. It wasn’t the answer, but it was a start.

After, Mito silently cleared away the plates, hardly believing what had just transpired. She was in a state of shock, both by her willingness to let the Kyuubi ease out, even just a fraction, and by Tsunade’s total dismissal of Taichi. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was the right decision, but it was the conclusion Tsunade had arrived at. She could only assume it was for the best, but her heart ached for Komako. It would be her worst nightmare, seeing her family so split. But it was a long time coming. Taichi’s behaviour had been out of control long before her death.

Nawaki, who was snivelling, reserved himself for bed. It wasn’t even 9 o’clock, but he seemed emotionally drained and unable to partake in the ‘celebrations’ any longer. He too was recovering from Tsunade’s banishing of their father, and since he had to face his own feelings regarding the matter, he felt guilty about it. _It was my fault. If I hadn’t started mouthing off about being Hokage, they never would haver argued._

Tsunade, for her part, was rigorously cleaning the table where the dregs of sake had soaked the wood. They were long since wiped away, but she swore she could still smell the alcohol, and it made her feel tense. It was only when she felt Mito’s hand on her shoulder that she halted the action.

‘Tsuna,’ Mito said, her tone gentle. ‘Are you…alright? That was quite the performance back there.’

‘It wasn’t a performance,’ Tsunade said, a bite to her tone. ‘It was the truth. He’s been overstepping the line for years now, and I couldn’t let him carry on.’

Mito sighed. ‘He is your father, though, Tsunade. Like it or not, that’s a fact.’

‘Blood doesn’t make a family.’

‘I know, I know,’ Mito said. ‘And I know he was hard on you. But…won’t you at least think of your mother? She would hate to see you so at odds, and I’m not sure that banishing him is the best way to deal with it.’

Tsunade tensed. ‘All I do is think about Mother at the moment. Every waking hour, even when I manage to sleep, I think of her. And do you really think she would have stood by and let him talk to Nawaki like that? Say all those awful things to their own son?’

Mito bit her lip. She wasn’t sure. Komako loved her children fiercely and put them before anything else – including Taichi – but, at the heart of it, she also cared for her husband dearly. She loved the man he used to be. The doting husband, the caring father, the man who had wept at their daughter’s 5th birthday party when nobody turned up. Mito knew that Komako believed _that_ Taichi would return to them. She had a feeling that Tsunade had hoped, too. But there was none of that left. No belief in him. No hope. Yet she couldn’t help but feel remorseful.

‘Tomorrow is a new day,’ she said softly, rubbing Tsunade’s back soothingly. She felt her muscles stiffen beneath the calming touch.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tsunade asked.

‘I mean that you may revise your decision yet, Tsuna,’ Mito said quietly.

Tsunade straightened up and moved away from her touch, looking incredulous.

‘You’re taking is _side_?’ she snorted.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Mito said gently. ‘I’ve been your corner from day one, Tsuna, and I always will be. There is no denying that Taichi was not fit to be your father, but to leave things as they are…why, it puts a bad taste in my mouth.’

Tsunade shook her head. ‘What, you fear retribution?’

‘I fear for you,’ Mito said, reaching out to cup her cheek. ‘You made a momentous decision tonight, mainly based in anger. You cut all ties with him. I don’t want you to regret that when you mull it over, even years from now.’

Rather roughly, Tsunade took Mito’s hand from her face. ‘I’ll never regret defending Nawaki. Never.’

‘This isn’t just about dear Nawaki,’ Mito said cautiously. ‘This is about your relationship with your father, and out of respect for your mother’s memory. I’m not saying you ought to forgive him, because, in all honesty, he doesn’t deserve it. But so many things have been left unsaid. They’ll fester and rot for all time unless you clear them.’

Tsunade shook her head again, stepping away from her. ‘I don’t need to hear this right now. I don’t _want_ to hear it.’

‘Tsuna,’ Mito said, her tone urgent as Tsunade stomped off towards the front door, ‘I’m merely saying that I want you to think things through and be certain you want nothing more to do with him, that’s all.’

Tsunade paused, her hand on the doorhandle. She turned her head slightly, and her expression was distraught. ‘I’ve had 15 years to think it through.’

With that, she roughly pulled open the door. Cool air rushed in and slammed against her face, but she hardly noticed.

‘Where are you going?’ Mito asked.

‘To clear my head.’

*

‘What the hell are you doing, Jiraiya?’ Orochimaru groaned, as he found his idiotic friend hanging about the outside of the public baths.

Jiraiya jumped about a foot in the air when Orochimaru spotted him, his head stuck in a thicket of bamboo in an attempt to access the fence. 

‘Bloody hell, Oro!’ Jiraiya hissed. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack!’

‘I think you’ll give those innocent women a heart attack if they catch you trying to sneak a peek,’ Orochimaru said, folding his arms. He thought Jiraiya had grown out of such problematic habits, but it seemed he was wrong.

Jiraiya blushed, shimmying from the bamboo and straightening up. ‘Look, I was just trying to clear my head a bit after that fight with Tsu, alright?’

‘And you think ogling naked women will achieve that?’

Jiraiya flushed red again and folded his arms. ‘Look, just because you seem to have the sexual appetite of a robot, doesn’t mean we all have.’

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. ‘I am merely able to control myself, you idiot. Besides, this is stupid. I’m not going to waste my evening arguing about what you get up to in your spare time.’

He turned to flounce away, but Jiraiya caught his arm. The feeling of his warm hand on his wrist sent a wave of tingling to shoot all the way up Orochimaru’s arm.

‘Hey, sorry,’ Jiraiya mumbled. ‘I know there’s no excuse for this, but…well, it _does_ distract me, I guess. Plus, I think Akari went in there earlier.’ Jiraiya waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Orochimaru resisted the urge to facepalm.

‘I should have known,’ Orochimaru muttered, feeling slightly stung.

‘Wait,’ Jiraiya said, as Orochimaru turned to leave again. ‘I know I’m a creep, but can you just…I dunno, stay with me?’

Orochimaru blinked at him. ‘I am not leering at women with you, Jiraiya.’

‘No!’ Jiraiya replied hotly. ‘I didn’t mean that. I dunno. I just need something to keep myself busy, you know? Got a lot of thinking to do.’

Sighing, Orochimaru relented and leant against a small fence surrounding the bamboo. ‘What’s on your mind, then? Tsunade?’

Jiraiya nodded forlornly. ‘Yeah. And other things.’

‘Other things?’ Orochimaru pressed.

Jiraiya sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You’re gonna think me stupid.’

‘No change there, then.’

‘Oi,’ Jiraiya muttered, aiming a half-hearted kick at him. ‘It’s just…well, ever since we came back from the Land of Mountains and I sort of had a – well, I don’t wanna say _breakdown_ or anything because I promise I’m alright and stuff – but I had a long chat with my Pa. And ever since then, he’s been all weird around me, I guess. Like, he keeps asking me if I’m okay. He’s breathing down my neck all the time and I can’t stand it. I came out here to escape for a bit, really.’

Orochimaru fiddled with a bamboo leaf that was tickling the back of his neck and tugged at the stringy fibres. ‘That isn’t stupid, Jiraiya. That’s a normal paternal reaction. Or so I’d imagine.’

‘You think?’ Jiraiya asked sceptically. ‘He’s acting as though I’m about to break at any second. He keeps looking at me like I’m, I dunno, wounded.’

‘You _are_ wounded, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, remembering his discussion earlier with Sakumo. ‘And Benjiro is merely concerned for your well-being, that’s all. You saw some terrible things in those caves, and in your eyes, did some terrible things, too. He saw you deal with all of that at once. You can’t blame him for worrying.’

Jiraiya bit his lip. ‘But when he looks at me like that, it makes me feel weak all over again.’

‘Have you told him any of this?’

‘I tried to earlier,’ Jiraiya mumbled. ‘But he got all weird and aloof with me, so I decided to head out. I came here almost by accident – don’t give me that look, Oro, I swear I did – and, since there was no one else around, I figured there was an opportunity.’

‘An opportunity to be an insufferable pervert, you mean?’ Orochimaru said.

‘Lay off, will you?’ Jiraiya grumbled. ‘I don’t need you and Tsunade on my back.’

Orochimaru sighed quietly to himself, the bamboo leaf torn to shreds in his pale hands. ‘What are you going to do about Tsunade, do you reckon?’

Jiraiya huffed through his nostrils. ‘Well, what she said was bang out of order, it has to be said. But I…I feel like I ought to apologise, too. I didn’t realise I was being insensitive to her feelings like that.’

‘I don’t think you were being insensitive,’ Orochimaru said. ‘But I do think you should have tried to listen to her without going on the defensive.’

‘Can you blame me, though?’ Jiraiya said glumly. ‘I felt bad for poor Akari, and you can’t deny that Tsu has been pretty unreasonable this past week. I know it isn’t her fault, but I…oh, what am I saying? I’ve gotta apologise, haven’t I?’

Orochimaru shrugged. ‘Perhaps. Though, to be honest, you deserve an apology, too.’

Jiraiya smirked. ‘Ah, I’ve heard worse from her. Remember when she used to call me a snot-nosed little runt?’

‘She still does, if I’m not mistaken,’ Orochimaru smiled.

‘Heh. Yeah,’ Jiraiya said, a peculiar sort of expression on his face. It wasn’t quite sadness, nor happiness, but somewhere in the grey area between. Nostalgia, perhaps. Or fondness for what had passed.

‘You two will patch things up,’ Orochimaru said, convincing himself as well as Jiraiya. ‘You always do. You fight and you argue at nearly every turn, but at the end of the day, you care about each other. Right?’

Jiraiya nodded. ‘Yeah, of course. But sometimes, I wonder if…aw, it doesn’t matter. No point in talking about that when there’s a load of beautiful women just a peep hole away!’

‘Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said reproachfully, ‘don’t even think about it.’

‘Too late!’ Jiraiya smirked, infiltrating the bamboo thicket once more. His backside was sticking out awkwardly and Orochimaru shook his head. Shinobi are meant to be at least a little inconspicuous, but Jiraiya wasn’t even trying to disguise what he was doing. Sighing, Orochimaru edged further along the bench, away from him. He couldn’t be associated with such things. But he didn’t leave. He could sense that Jiraiya had more to say.

He gazed up at the dark sky and mulled over their conversation. What did Jiraiya mean, exactly, when he said _I wonder if_? Orochimaru furrowed his brow. Did he not care for Tsunade like he ought to as her teammate? Or had he stopped caring after their argument? Orochimaru pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no point in trying to decipher Jiraiya’s half-finished words. But he felt the slightest flare of anxiety as he dwelled on the unfinished sentiment. _It’s not about caring too little,_ he thought to himself. _If I were to guess, he wonders if he cares too much._

The thought made him bristle. Orochimaru wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the way Jiraiya looked at Tsunade, even when they were kids, and now his gaze lingered for longer. He’d seen it when they were training, or merely hanging out together. Even when she wasn’t doing much of anything, Jiraiya seemed to find her endlessly fascinating. At first, he’d privately hoped it was because she was pretty. _An understatement_ , Orochimaru thought bitterly. _Tsunade is beautiful. Even I can see that, and I’m not even interested in her_. But, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jiraiya’s attention when it came to her couldn’t be so baseless. He admired her beyond her looks; Orochimaru was sure of that. And for some reason, the thought made his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

The saving grace was, of course, that Tsunade didn’t seem the least bit interested in him. In anyone, for that matter. While a lot of Konoha’s teenaged populace seemed to be embarking on clumsy kisses and awkward first dates (according to Jiraiya, at any rate, since Orochimaru was often too busy to pay attention to such pointless gossip), Tsunade seemed oblivious to whole thing. _Maybe she’s like me,_ Orochimaru thought. _Maybe she’s still figuring everything out_.

Orochimaru knew he had a lot left to learn about himself. He had complex waters to navigate, and his attachment to Jiraiya only served to confuse him even more. He didn’t exactly have anyone to talk to about it – least of all Jiraiya himself – and while he was reaching a tentative sort of bond with Sakumo Hatake, he couldn’t ever imagine talking about such personal matters. There _was_ Tsunade, technically, but he struggled to get a read on her. Just because she hadn’t shown interest in the opposite sex yet, it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t. _Maybe I’m just a late bloomer, then? Maybe that interest will come with time?_ Orochimaru despised the undercurrent of hope in his heart when he found himself thinking that. It didn’t matter. He could dwell on it another time. For now, out of the three of them, it was only Jiraiya who seemed concerned over such matters. And his pursuits were lecherous at best.

‘Jiraiya, come on,’ Orochimaru mumbled. ‘You’ve seen quite enough.’

‘I’ve hardly seen anything,’ Jiraiya hissed back. ‘It’s too steamy! And I don’t mean that in a good way. Plus, this stupid peak hole is in the worst place. It’s blocking most the good stuff!’

‘Gee, it’s as if the owners don’t want any creeps peeping at their patrons,’ Orochimaru muttered.

‘Give over, Oro,’ Jiraiya said. ‘If you were any sort of wingman, you’d give me a leg up so I can look over the top!’

‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Orochimaru said indignantly.

‘Spoilsport.’

‘Pervert.’

‘…tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing?’

Orochimaru jerked his head up. He had been so preoccupied with his rapport with Jiraiya and his own internal thoughts, that he didn’t notice they had company. Not good company, either.

Tsunade was stood in front of him, her expression beyond furious. Orochimaru gulped. It didn’t help that she was already fuming from her argument with Jiraiya – and everything that had unfolded back at the Mansion – but she saw Jiraiya’s backside sticking out of the bamboo, her blood pressure went through the roof.

‘Tsu – Tsunade!’ Jiraiya spluttered, backing out of the thicket and stumbling over his feet. He tripped and almost fell flat on his face, were it not for Orochimaru grabbing his elbow and steadying him. ‘We were just -’

‘ – what do you mean _we_?’ Orochimaru hissed. ‘I had nothing to do with it.’

‘I – I mean,’ Jiraiya swallowed, ‘I was just…er…doing some…research! Yes! Research!’

A vein popped in Tsunade’s temple.

‘For my novels!’ Jiraiya continued quickly, completely blagging it on the spot. ‘You see, Tsunade, it’s actually a really funny story! You remember the whole prophecy thing, right? The geezer toad and all that? Well, _part_ of that immensely important and actually sort of world-changing prophecy was that I’d travel the world writing books! And, you know, I figured I’d go for romance books since I’m such a good catch myself, so I just thought I’d get a head start by -’

Jiraiya was cut off from his admittedly impressive excuse when Tsunade’s fist flew into his face. There was a nasty crunch and a stream of blood exploded from his nose, which had absolutely nothing to do with the display he had been ogling in the baths.

‘Tsunade!’ Orochimaru exclaimed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?!’

But Tsunade wasn’t listening. This was the cherry on top of a truly god-awful week. Everything she was feeling came flooding back to her once, and all she saw was red. Her mother’s death, the puddle of blood on the cave floor sticking to her hands. Miki’s face. The endless grief and the empty condolences. The promotion rebuff. The argument with Jiraiya. The fight with her father. Mito’s words. All the anger detonated in her gut, bypassed her heart and better judgement, and went straight to her fists. Anger. _It’s the easiest emotion to feel_ , Sakumo had said. But she wasn’t thinking about Sakumo. All she was thinking about was the fact that she had gone to clear her head, thinking the hot springs would help her relax, only to find her so-called comrade sticking his head in a thicket of bamboo to spy on women. Women like her. It was so childish. She was dealing with things on a scale she couldn’t cope with, while her friend was merrily passing the time by being an utter pervert. It infuriated her beyond belief.

In fact, she didn’t really believe it. She didn’t believe it was _her_ who had climbed on top of him, smacking his face and his stomach and his arms with her devastating strength, blood splattering up her forearms and knuckles splitting. She didn’t believe it was _her_ who couldn’t stop, even when Orochimaru shouted at her to and dragged her away from him. She didn’t believe it was _her_ who had just beaten her friend so severely that he had lost consciousness, blood dribbling from his mouth, broken bones puncturing his internal organs. It wasn’t her. It was her anger.

*

The brutal fact of the matter was that if Tsunade hadn’t regained control and started to heal Jiraiya on the spot, he would have been close to dying. She had broken 6 of his ribs, both his arms, and ruptured several of his internal organs. And he, in all his love for her, had not even tried to defend himself. He might have thought he deserved all he got, at least subconsciously. But years from that day, Jiraiya would come to cite only two occasions when he had come close to death: one was when his dear student lost control of his sealed power, and the other was when he got caught in the crossfire of Tsunade’s unrelenting rage.

Orochimaru was pacing outside the hospital room as the doctors finished up Tsunade’s initial healing processes. She had opted out of continuing after her initial treatment, too shocked and disgusted at herself to touch him, even as a healer, and was currently sat on one of the chairs in the corridor with her face in her hands.

Orochimaru was livid. Rationally, he was trying to convince himself that Tsunade had been pushed to breaking point after everything that had happened, and her loss of control wasn’t a reflection on her, but on the events she had endured. Irrationally, he wanted to strangle her. Seeing Jiraiya lying in a bloody heap brought back memories of the last time was injured when they were Genin, and he never liked to remember that. He clenched his fists, glaring through the glass as the medical team worked to halt the internal bleeding. Jiraiya’s shattered bones had torn at his insides, and it would take some time to recover.

He turned to Tsunade, shaking slightly with anger. She didn’t look at him, her forehead pressed to the heels of her hands. Her fingernails had blood under them, from both the beating and the healing, and it made him feel sick.

‘Why did you do that?’ His words were like ice.

Tsunade didn’t look up. ‘I…I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just…snapped.’

Orochimaru breathed sharply through his nose. ‘Snapped? _Snapped_? The only thing that snapped were Jiraiya’s bones!’

Tsunade flinched at his raised voice, but she knew she deserved it.

‘What the hell were you thinking?!’ Orochimaru continued, all the rationality he had built up in his mind to calm himself down flying out the window. ‘He’s your best friend, Tsunade, and you could have killed him!’

‘I know,’ Tsunade whispered, her tone wrought with shame. ‘I know and I’m so sorry but I just couldn’t stop myself. I’ve never felt anything like that in my life and I just lost control. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

Orochimaru tried to steady his breathing, but every time he glimpsed Jiraiya lying on the bed, his face black and blue, with medical ninjas swarming around him like frantic insects, the fury flared up again like an old injury. _He’d still pick her over me, even when she does something like this_.

‘That’s not an excuse!’ he shouted, his voice catching in his throat. ‘You…how could you do that to him? He’s our friend. I know he’s an idiot but he’s our friend!’

Tsunade finally looked up when Orochimaru’s voice broke. She hadn’t heard him sound like that for a long, long time. She was hit with a way of déjà vu. It was happening a lot that day. First Taichi and the graduation meal, now Orochimaru on the brink of crying in the hospital, with Jiraiya behind glass, broken. Were they 7 years old again, worried for his life, emotions bubbling to the surface and frustration the fastest to take hold? Should she reach out to him like did last time, or would he push her away? Did he even want her near him, considering what had happened?

Tsunade wiped her heads on her knees, swallowing thickly. ‘Oro…I’m not even going to try and justify what I did, because there really isn’t an excuse. But know this, please. That wasn’t me. That’s not…how I usually behave. You know that. It’s just everything has been too much recently and I don’t know how to deal with all of _this_ ,’ – she pointed at her heart – ‘swirling around. It’s driving me mad. And I’m scared, Oro. I’m really scared.’

Orochimaru bit his lip, hard, trying to ignore the hotness swelling up in his eyes. ‘Jiraiya promised we’d never change. When we all started to go down our own separate paths, he…’ Orochimaru trailed off, grief constricting his throat.

‘Times change and they always will,’ Tsunade whispered. ‘But the three of us, we…we won’t change. We’re a little broken right now – me especially, I think that much is clear – but we’ll fix ourselves. We’ll get better, right? It’ll get better.’

‘You really think you can _fix_ what you’ve done?’ Orochimaru stammered. ‘You think you can earn his trust, or that you even deserve it?’

Tsunade shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But I’ll try. Not because I’m owed his forgiveness, but because he is owed an apology.’

Orochimaru clenched his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms sharply. ‘What you did back there was unforgivable.’

Tsunade dropped his gaze, her eyes glazed over with tears.

‘But,’ Orochimaru continued, swallowing hard, ‘knowing that knuckle-headed buffoon, he’ll forgive you the moment he wakes up.’

‘I don’t deserve it,’ Tsunade mumbled, twisting her bloodied fingers together.

‘You’re right there,’ he spat. ‘You’ve reached an impasse, Tsunade. And you need to decide whether you’re going to be a person like your mother, or a person like your father.’

Orochimaru’s words hung heavily in the air when he left the hospital wing, unable to watch Jiraiya being poked and prodded any more. His eyes were hot with tears and he pressed his lips together, resenting himself for allowing his emotions to bubble to the surface. But he couldn’t help himself. Jiraiya meant _everything_ to him. And seeing him hurt felt like he was hurting, too. He cursed himself for not stopping Tsunade sooner, feeling like he had when he was a lowly Genin: unable to protect his friends. But he never thought he’d find himself in a position where he’d have to protect one friend from another.

‘Dammit,’ he hissed. ‘Nothing has changed. I’m still too _weak_.’

He rounded the corner, gritting his teeth together, when ran into Benjiro.

‘Whoa, Orochimaru!’ Benjiro said, grabbing the boy’s shoulders to stead him. ‘Easy does it. You were going pretty fast just then!’

Orochimaru roughly flinched away from him, blinking quickly in an effort to disguise his tears. ‘I’m in a hurry.’

Benjiro’s brow furrowed the same way Jiraiya’s did, and he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, me too. I just heard what happened. Is he alright?’

‘Tsunade’s initial healing lessened the damage,’ Orochimaru said, an edge to his voice. ‘But he’s probably going to be feeling that for some time.’

‘Huh. She beat him like a drum, then?’ Benjiro tutted. ‘Honestly, that son of mine is more trouble than he’s worth sometimes.’

Orochimaru jerked his head up. ‘Jiraiya is not to blame here. He did a stupid thing, but he didn’t deserve such harsh treatment.’

‘I know that well enough, Orochimaru. I am his father after all,’ Benjiro said. ‘And I won’t say he didn’t deserve a slap, but it sounds as though young Tsunade went a bit far this time.’

‘And then some,’ Orochimaru spat.

Benjiro sighed, looking weary. ‘Well, I’d best go and assess the damage. Wish it was the first time I had to see my poor son in hospital, but there you are. You’re heading off so soon?’

‘I can’t stand to see him like that,’ Orochimaru said, bristling. ‘And quite frankly, I don’t want to be anywhere near Tsunade right now.’

‘Hm. There’s a lot of anger in the air right now, I can sense that,’ Benjiro nodded.

‘Exactly. She’s been in a constant state of anger lately, and I -’

‘ – I didn’t mean Tsunade,’ Benjiro said. ‘I meant you. You’re paler than usual, my boy, and look about ready to level a mountain.’

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. ‘I…I suppose I am.’

Benjiro looked at him softly, his eyes gentle. ‘Always were worried for my son, weren’t you?’

Orochimaru felt heat in his face. ‘I – well – I have good reason to, do I not? He’s always getting himself into trouble, especially with Tsunade. Though this time, it was more than the usual reprimanding. And I’m just worried for him because…’

He trailed off, not knowing what to say. He also didn’t like the look Benjiro was throwing him. It was a deeply sympathetic, almost knowing look that made him feel like a fly trapped under a magnifying glass with the sun burning in.

Benjiro laid a steady hand on his shoulder. ‘I know, Orochimaru.’

Benjiro carried on down the corridor and Orochimaru felt rooted in the spot. What did he know? That Tsunade had crossed a line? That Jiraiya didn’t deserve the treatment he deserved? _No, that can’t be it. That was much more weighed._ He shook his head. He was tired of trying to decipher the dubious meanings of half-sentences, and he felt like he just being paranoid. Benjiro couldn’t know what Orochimaru was feeling, because he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

Back in the hospital, Tsunade stared blankly at the clock above the operating window, watching its hands tick away until she was certain Mito would be worried. She pushed it from her mind. All she wanted to think about was Jiraiya. Despite that assertion, Orochimaru’s words swam around her head because he was _right_. She had been acting exactly like her father; quick to anger, irrational, and lashing out to solve problems. She was nothing like her mother, the kind, gentle soul she had been. Her fists clenched in her lap. When did that happen? When did she start becoming like him?

She was jogged out of her thoughts when Benjiro appeared, rushing to the window and staring through at his son. The immense shame she was feeling washed over her again and she winced, hardly knowing what to say. Benjiro loved his son dearly, and seeing him so hurt by her own hand was probably destroying him. She swallowed, preparing herself for what was to follow as he turned to look at her. She was used to being shouted at. She was used to worse than that. She could handle it. _I deserve it._

Her body went rigid as Benjiro approached her, expecting the worst, feeling like his towering figure was that of her own father. But nothing happened. He merely sat down next to her with a drawn-out sigh, his hand resting on top of her clenched fists.

‘Now, Tsunade,’ he said, his voice gentle. ‘You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven’t you?’

The anger and self-hatred she had been feeling dropped away at the sound of his calm tone, and misery crept to the surface. Tears prickled against the backs of her eyes and she sniffed to herself.

‘Benjiro,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorrier than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.’

She felt his hand tighten around hers. ‘I can see that. Believe me.’

She bit her lip, her head bowed. ‘You – you can be angry if you need to. I deserve it.’

To her surprise, Benjiro let out a soft chuckle. ‘What would be the point in that? Taking out my anger on you would only make this cycle continue. There’s so much _anger_ in the air right now; from you and from Orochimaru. Adding to it would only worsen the situation.’

Tsunade blinked at him. ‘How can you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Pull yourself together? Ignore your anger?’

Benjiro leant back in his seat. ‘Oh, I am angry, Tsunade, make no mistake. You clobbered my son. If I was a different sort of man, then I’d tell you exactly what I think of you right now. But, luckily for both of us, I’m _not_ that sort of man. Acting in anger leads to regret, for the most part. And I think you’ve got enough regret going on for the both of us.’

‘But I…’ Tsunade didn’t know how to finish her sentence. What did she want, exactly, apart from the ability to turn back the clock? Did she want someone to be angry at her, so she could feel like she’d started paying the universe back for what she did? Would that help anyone?

‘I know,’ Benjiro said, repeating the words he’d expressed to Orochimaru. ‘But the fact is, your guilt is retribution enough. If you didn’t feel so rotten, then I’d feel differently, too. But it’s clear you regret your actions. Perhaps you didn’t even mean them in the first place?’

‘I didn’t,’ Tsunade said earnestly. ‘Everything just got too much and I was overwhelmed by this terrible, uncontrollable anger. It…it almost felt like it was an out-of-body experience, or something.’

‘We all have our breaking points,’ Benjiro said evenly. ‘But don’t get the wrong idea – do anything like that again, and I won’t let you within 10 miles of him. Do you understand?’

There was an uncharacteristic edge to Benjiro’s tone that unsettled her. But she nodded, because he had every right to be furious with her. Had it been the other way around, and she’d been the one lying in the hospital bed, she didn’t even want to imagine what Mito would have done.

‘But you know,’ Benjiro continued, his eyes glassy, ‘this won’t change anything between the pair of you. Not on Jiraiya’s part, anyway.’

‘It ought to,’ Tsunade mumbled.

Benjiro patted the back of her hand. ‘And I’m saying that it won’t. For one thing, he’ll know you regret it. And for another…well, my idiot son fell head over heels for you a long time ago, Tsunade. I doubt much could change what he feels for you.’

Tsunade froze. ‘Wha – what?’

‘You really don’t know?’ Benjiro said, a slight smile on his tired face. ‘Why, you’re denser than I first thought. Jiraiya is a simple soul. He goes all in, or not at all. That’s why he acts the way he does – full of life, excitable, and ready to dream big. He’s always been that way. There’s no room for complexity in that manner of living, and he…once he sets his heart on something, or someone, there is no going back.’

Tsunade shook her head. ‘No, he doesn’t…he doesn’t feel so powerfully for me. Not in that way, at any rate. He just thinks I’m attractive.’

‘He thinks most girls attractive, Tsunade,’ Benjiro chuckled. ‘But…oh, it isn’t my place to talk about such things. I’ve already said too much, I think. The point is, Jiraiyawill forgive you. Orochimaru, on the other hand, might take a little more work.’

‘Yeah, I figured that much out for myself,’ Tsunade mumbled. ‘He’s always been that way when it comes to Jiraiya.’

‘Perhaps he is a simple sort of person, too?’ Benjiro said.

‘What, he puts all his eggs in one basket, or something?’

Benjiro laughed quietly at her turn of phrase. ‘I think he merely cares a great deal for his loved ones. That’s all.’

The pair of them sat for a while until Jiraiya was stable. They didn’t say much after their initial exchange. Benjiro was consumed by worry and Tsunade was reeling from what he had told her. _Does Jiraiya actually have feelings for me? It isn’t just because he likes the way I look?_ The though bugged her immensely, especially when she didn’t even think to view him in that light. But maybe, with time, she would come around to the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, enjoy the 16,598 words of absolute angst. Sorry about that...  
> Okay SO my thought process here is a little convoluted and basically involves a lot of overthinking, but remember in the anime when Jiraiya shows off that scar he got when training Naruto? He refers to it as one of the only two times he nearly died. Now, I'm sure the whole 'Tsunade nearly killed me when I was peeping' thing was meant for slap-stick comedy (in a similar way to when Sakura punches poor Naruto), but I was thinking...that is actually canon. Like YIKES. She full on nearly killed him?? And see I know I'm putting too much thought into it (such is fanfic), and Tsunade does historically have a temper, but to think she'd go that far is sort of serious, imo. I wanted to include it, but I needed there to be a reason.   
> Orochimaru is rapidly becoming my favourite to write, and I'm aware he hasn't had most focus, but that's only because I know what I've got planned for him. He'll get his time in the spotlight. Also, Tsunade standing up to Taichi meant a lot to me for a million reasons I feel no need to elaborate on, so I hope I did that scene justice.   
> Next week the chapter will be shorter, and I'm back to work and my studies too, so I might be less stringent with my updates - I'll do my best, nonetheless! It's also going to be a chapter largely revolving around things being Nice and Wholesome because let's be real, we need a break. Especially since this arc is coming to an end, and with it, so does Nawaki...  
> Happy reading! xo


	23. Inheriting a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sannin and friends celebrate Nawaki's birthday. For real. That's it. No angst, tragedy, or scheming this episode, folks! I'd say we've earned a break!

Chapter 23 – Inheriting a Dream

Date: 42 A.K (After Konoha)

When Jiraiya, Tsunade and Orochimaru turned 16 respectively, each day was met with melancholia and trepidation. There was little cause to celebrate, given everything that had transpired, but each tried to make the other happy nonetheless.

Orochimaru and Jiraiya organised to take Tsunade to the travelling show, but she did little but clap unenthusiastically when instructed, and spent most of the evening complaining about a popcorn kernel that was stuck in her teeth. Plus, at Tsunade’s behest, Shion Rosh had been invited along, too. Despite Tsunade’s assurance that she had Shion’s unpredictable and dangerous genjutsu under control through medication and monitoring, Jiraiya and Orochimaru spent most of their evening nervously regarding Shion as if she was a ticking time-bomb doomed to blow up at any moment.

Orochimaru’s birthday wasn’t much better. Tsunade and Jiraiya tried to entertain Orochimaru by inviting him on what they thought would be an interesting and instructive presentation about the analysis of combining nature types at the Hospital, when in fact it was just some sketchy creep who had less credentials than a cleaner, let alone a scientist. Finally, Orochimaru and Tsunade, on Jiraiya’s birthday, presented him with the only gift they could think of: treating him to his favourite barbecue place. The issue was, sadly, that Jiraiya had contracted food poisoning the day before and couldn’t even stomach the smallest sliver of beef, and spent the rest of the afternoon vomiting in the alleyway.

Regardless, come Nawaki’s 12th birthday, each of the three sixteen-year-olds were determined that his celebrations would be less tragic than their own. Despite their resolve, Nawaki’s birthday fell against a troubling backdrop: all was not well in the Land of Fire.

‘We have to take action, Hiruzen,’ Danzo said, leaning back in his seat during the Council’s emergency meeting. ‘If we assert ourselves now, it will spell less trouble in the future.’

‘I agree with Danzo,’ Taichi Senju said, albeit half-heartedly. He had said little else that meeting apart from supporting whatever came out of Danzo’s mouth, and in all honesty, Hiruzen was starting to lose his patience.

‘But there is no guarantee that Sunagakure’s movements are hostile,’ he said, for what felt like the millionth time. ‘There are still recovering from their own civil war; challenging our borders now would just be plain foolishness.’

‘And we, although it was 8 months ago, are still recovering from our own conflict with Kagero,’ Danzo said, an edge to his voice. ‘If they were going to strike, now would be the time!’

‘They aren’t stupid,’ Kagami Uchiha said. He had been a trusted advisor to Tobirama as well as witness to his death, and he had more experience than the rest of them concerning matters of war. ‘Starting a war with us, as well as threating borders with Iwagakure, would be plain foolishness. As much as I view the Kazekage as not one for measured and intelligent matters of diplomatic affairs, even he wouldn’t go that far.’

‘You know him personally then, do you?’ Danzo said sarcastically.

Kagami didn’t rise to the challenge. ‘I can make a firm estimation about the way he thinks. And making such a bold move would leave the Sand in ruins.’

‘Well, they might be acting in retribution,’ Koharu said gravely, her eyes scanning over a document in front of her. ‘If Sakumo Hatake’s report is anything to go by, the decision was made to leave several foreign Shinobi in the Inoshishi’s hideout, with no way of escape.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Danzo snapped.

‘Princess Tsunade’s renegade mission to the Land of Mountains,’ Koharu said dryly. ‘The end result, if you’d been paying attention to those reports, was that Hatake made the decision to leave the other Shinboi in custody.’

‘That makes sense,’ Homura said. ‘Releasing them would be overtly risky, and imprisoning them _here_ would have an been an act of war.’

Mito, who had been fairly reserved throughout the meeting, cleared her throat. ‘They might see us leaving them there as an act of war also.’

Hiruzen turned to her, his expression grave. ‘You think it so, Lady Uzumaki?’ He used her title as a mark of respect, given the seriousness of the meeting.

Mito nodded. ‘Unfortunately, I do. From what Tsuna told me, that Inoshishi group had captured an awful lot of kekkei genkai users – in other words, the powerhouses of their respective Villages. While I do feel Hatake made the correct judgement, given the obscene circumstances, I can’t imagine our foreign enemies would see it that way.’

Everyone in attendance – Hiruzen, Danzo, Homura, Koharu, Kagami and Taichi – all let out a long, weary sigh.

‘I…hadn’t considered the repercussions of that mission, I must admit,’ Hiruzen said, a frown creasing on his forehead.

‘It is not the focal point of these rising tensions, so I can’t imagine that you would,’ Mito said. ‘But it does fuel the fire.’

‘Is it war again, do you suppose?’ Koharu said, nibbling her lip.

‘It’s too early to say,’ Hiruzen said, folding his hands under his chin. ‘But I do think we should keep an eye on our borders, and the lands that shoulder Kumogakure. If the Kazekage was to make any moves, I imagine it would be to invade smaller nations, first.’

Danzo peered over at the large map spreading over the meeting table. ‘Primarily, then, we should look to Amegakure for any further developments.’

‘The Rain?’ Homura said. ‘That is governed by Hanzo of the Salamander, is it not?’

‘Yes. A powerful man, but not a stupid one,’ Hiruzen said, nodding. ‘Amegakure has long been the centre of international scrutiny, given its highly industrialised status. Not to mention it shares borders with us, the Sand, and the Stone. If anything happens, I imagine Hanzo would be the first to know.’

‘I don’t think anything will seriously develop for some time,’ Homura said, leaning back in his seat. ‘And, if it does, at least we have a buffer in the Rain. There was enough fighting on our home soil during the First Shinobi War.’

‘I can’t imagine Hanzo would be thrilled if we started a war with his country serving as the battleground,’ Danzo said dryly.

‘Let’s not speak of such things,’ Taichi said suddenly, standing up. ‘Speculating about such severe matters does little to ease any anxieties. It’s a waste of time and energy.’

‘With respect, Taichi, this Council was founded to speak of such things,’ Hiruzen said wearily. Taichi, as usual, was being irrational and unpredictable. Since he had left the Mansion at Tsunade’s fiery behest, he had been more unbearable than normal. He often showed up to Council meetings drunk, or hung over, and offered little but his give support for Danzo’s spiel, or general outrage that they were discussing in the first place. ‘It isn’t _speculation_. It’s preparation. The last war, we were not ready for. And we suffered huge losses.’ Hiruzen swallowed thickly, thinking of Tobirama.

‘There will be no war,’ Taichi said, his teeth gritted.

‘I wish I shared your blind optimism, but we must be vigilant,’ Hiruzen said.

‘There is a fine line between vigilance and paranoia,’ Taichi hissed.

‘And there’s a fine line between speculation and preparation, but it’s a line we must walk if we wish to keep Konoha safe, and ensure the younger generations never have to be caught up in a period of war,’ Hiruzen said, his eyes hard.

Taichi muttered something under his breath, still on his feet, but none of the other Council members paid him any attention. Naturally, they _wanted_ Taichi to be right, and the Hokage to be wrong. They wanted peace above anything else. But, as the varying Hidden Villages continued to build up and become threatening competitors, some sort of major fallout was inevitable, not matter how hard Konoha attempted to avoid it. In the end, the Second Shinobi War wouldn’t start for just shy of decade, in the year 51 A.K. But that did not mean the signs weren’t already in place, flickering in the shadows, and fanning the flames of war.

*

‘I’m stumped,’ Jiraiya groaned, scratching his chin as he scrutinised a display window. ‘What the heck do you get a 12-year-old kid for his birthday, anyway?’

‘I don’t know why you’re asking me,’ Orochimaru said, folding his arms.

‘You’re his Sensei, aren’t you?’ Jiraiya said. ‘You hang around the little guy way more than I do!’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t mean I carefully document all of his likes and dislikes,’ Orochimaru said sarcastically. He hated shopping, even if it was with Jiraiya, but at least it gave him a chance to pick up some groceries.

‘Fat lot of good you are,’ Jiraiya scowled. ‘His birthday is literally in two days time, and I still haven’t the foggiest about what to get him!’

Orochimaru eyed Jiraiya thoughtfully as he frantically scanned the window in the neighbouring shop, sweating slightly. ‘Why do you care so much, anyway? I know you’re fond of Nawaki, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want you going to all this trouble.’

Jiraiya, who had glued his nose to the window of a novelty joke shop, eased away from the glass. ‘I dunno. I guess…well, we’ve known the kid since he was 3! And he’s been through a lot recently. There was all that stuff with his old man, and I know Komako’s been gone for over half a year, but…’ Jiraiya trailed off. Why _was_ he trying so hard for Nawaki? It was true he wanted to make the day as memorable as he could, since he thought the poor boy deserved it, but it didn’t exactly warrant such agitated concern.

Orochimaru sighed heavily. _He_ knew why Jiraiya was going to such extremes, and it wasn’t just out of care for Nawaki. He wanted to impress Tsunade. The jealous part of Orochimaru didn’t want to help for that very reason, but his affection for Jiraiya won over in the end (as it always did). He leant forward and patted him on the shoulder.

‘Okay,’ he said, his expression serious. ‘Game plan: what did you get when you were 12? What did you enjoy? What did you _want_ to get? Think back, and you might get some ideas.’

Jiraiya’s brow furrowed in concentration, and Orochimaru couldn’t help but find that endearing; whenever Jiraiya was thinking really, _really_ hard about something, a little crease would appear between his eyebrows, and he’d go slightly cross-eyed from the concentration. He’d been that way ever since he was small.

‘Ah, jeez, I can hardly remember,’ Jiraiya said, shaking his head. ‘I mean, I remember my 7th really well cus’ you got me that homemade picture frame with our team photo in,’ – Orochimaru practically glowed with pride – ‘and Tsu got me that adorable little craved frog, but my 12th? Who knows? I’d just made Chuunin, but you were busy with the ANBU and Tsu was busy at the Hospital. No clue what me Pa got me either.’

‘Well, do you remember what sort of things you wanted back then?’ Orochimaru said.

‘You mean apart from exclusive access to the girls’ hot springs?’ Jiraiya winked.

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. Jiraiya was still stuck in his ways, even after the incident between him and Tsunade. He shuddered slightly at the memory. The three of them had a lot of history, but that day was certainly one he’d sooner forget. Tsunade’s frightening anger, Jiraiya’s broken body, and his seething words in the Hospital still held claim over the majority of his mind. The aftermath was long and painful. Jiraiya took a while to heal and Tsunade didn’t face him for weeks, partly out of shame, and partly out of what she and Benjiro had spoken about. Orochimaru was none the wiser about the conversation between Tsunade and Benjiro, but it was better he didn’t know. Confirmation of Jiraiya’s feelings for their teammate would only complicate their relationship.

Regardless, Jiraiya forgave Tsunade in a heartbeat, as they all knew he would, but he _did_ tease her about it. Whenever he wanted something, or she said something unpleasant to him (usually about his immaturity or table manners), he would lament _oh, but don’t you remember that time you almost killed me?_ He would laugh heartily and slap her on the back as if it didn’t mean anything, but Orochimaru never missed her wincing. And he never missed the white-hot anger than flared up whenever the incident was brought up.

He hadn’t forgiven her. He doubted he ever would. After it happened, and after he’d said his piece - _you need to decide whether you’re going to be a person like your mother, or a person like your father_ – the sight of her disgusted him. It took him longer than Jiraiya’s healing process to talk to her. When he did, words were exchanged, feelings were hurt, and a bad energy crackled between them. It wasn’t until her birthday that he was persuaded to spend time with her, and that was thanks to Jiraiya himself. He processed his anger, slowly, and to be honest, seeing Tsunade so torn up about it helped him, in a sick sort of way. He wanted her to feel guilty. He wanted her to repent, to feel awful whenever they spoke about it, in jest or not. And eventually, he and Tsunade reached a point where they were almost back to normal.

Still, Orochimaru would be lying if he said everything was perfect between the three of them. Tsunade had much to work on, namely her anger, and she still hadn’t touched Jiraiya once. Even in comfort, or during missions, she would never lay a finger on him. She refused to train with him, avoided his hugs, and jerked liked she’d been electrocuted whenever he patted her on the shoulder. Orochimaru knew it offended Jiraiya, but he also knew why she did it – she was terrified of hurting him. Meanwhile, _he_ was terrified of what he was feeling for Jiraiya. He still hadn’t dealt with it, hoping it would pass. So, despite outward appearances and mission success, the future Sannin were wearing thin. Nawaki’s birthday celebration would be the ideal time to try and construct some semblance of normality, and all three of them were scrabbling for it like a life-line. Neither wanted to give up on the other. Neither wanted anything to change.

‘It’s no use,’ Jiraiya groaned, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. ‘The only thing I can think of is the newest book in the _Death Crash the Invincible_ series, but I dunno if he even likes those books!’

‘Or indeed if he’s transcended the necessary reading level,’ Orochimaru tutted, wondering how Jiraiya still derived respect for books written for 5-year-olds.

‘I might just cave and get him a coupon for -’

‘– Jiraiya, for the millionth time, not everyone loves that damn barbecue joint,’ Orochimaru said. ‘You can’t keep giving people gift certificates as a present.’

‘But it’s the best barbecue place in the Village!’ Jiraiya said indignantly. ‘Who wouldn’t want an all-expenses-paid meal there, eh?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Orochimaru said sarcastically. ‘I think we discovered that exact reasoning when you gifted one to Akari last month.’

‘What was wrong with that?’

‘She’s a vegetarian!’

‘What are you two squabbling about?’ a voice came from behind them. They spun around to find Kenzou Nara, their classmate from their Academy days, smirking at them.

‘Hi, Kenzou!’ Jiraiya said enthusiastically. Since his promotion to Jonin, the classmates who had scorned him and given him the cold shoulder suddenly seemed capable of mustering up some sort of respect for him. Orochimaru didn’t like that Kenzou and the others thought Jiraiya wasn’t worth their time until he became higher up the pecking order, but he kept his mouth shut. Akari worshipped the ground he walked on after he saved Hiromichi and Fumihiro, and the aforementioned boys also regarding him with respect, due to his actions, but the rest of the class thought Jiraiya was about as useful as a chocolate teapot until his promotion.

‘You out on a date or something?’ Kenzou said, looking between the pair and Orochimaru’s shopping bags.

‘We’re trying to find something for Nawaki’s birthday,’ Jiraiya said, not even batting an eyelid at Kenzou’s comment.

‘Ah. The Senju kid?’ Kenzou said, nodding up towards the Mansion.

‘Yup! He’s Oro’s protégée, too, so we gotta get him something good,’ Jiraiya beamed.

Kenzou regarded Orochimaru with a cool stare, looking him up and down. ‘Is that so? I heard you became a Sensei to a squad of Genin, but I never imagined they’d put you in charge of someone as important as the First’s only grandson.’

‘I can assure you, I am more than qualified to look over Nawaki,’ Orochimaru said, his tone witheringly neutral. Despite their peers being fairly respectful towards Jiraiya due to his status, Orochimaru was well aware that none of them thought he was worth paying attention to. He knew what they thought of him, even after a decade had passed; they thought him the Village weirdo, the outcast, the unfortunate orphan. No amount of praise from Hiruzen would change that, either.

‘I’m sure you are,’ Kenzou shrugged. ‘But doesn’t look like you’re having any luck gift buying for a squirt if you’re hanging around an off-licence.’

Orochimaru and Jiraiya turned to find themselves in front of a shop purely selling alcohol, from expensive sake to watered down beer, which apparently was right next door to the novelty shop. The pair of them bristled slightly in awkwardness.

‘We’re not gonna get the kid alcohol, obviously,’ Jiraiya said, feeling slightly anxious about the reaction he’d receive from Tsunade if they _did_ get him alcohol. ‘But you’re on the money – we’re both stumped.’

‘What, even though you’re his Sensei?’ Kenzou snorted, eyeing Orochimaru.

‘Funnily enough, I haven’t had the time to quiz him on such matters,’ Orochimaru said through gritted teeth.

‘Fair enough,’ Kenzou said, slinging his arms behind his head and stifling a yawn. ‘Well, I’d love to help and all, but Taichi-sensei wants to see me and the others about something ‘serious’ – or so he says.’

Orochimaru and Jiraiya exchanged a look. Taichi and something ‘serious’? That couldn’t be good.

‘Don’t give me that look,’ Kenzou said. ‘I can already guess what it’s about.’

‘Oh?’ Jiraiya said.

‘He’s likely going to disband the team,’ Kenzou said. ‘It’s coming up to that point now, especially with Isao and Riku going out and doing their own thing. We’re all heading down different paths. It doesn’t make sense to keep us welded together.’

‘But you’re _the_ trio!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘You can’t split up a Nara, an Akimichi, and a Yamanaka! There’s probably some sort of unspoken rule about it!’

Kenzou smirked, his dark eyes assessing Jiraiya with impatience. ‘C’mon, Jiraiya. Tell me you’re not so stupid as to think we’d remain in those three-man cells forever?’

Jiraiya pulled a face. ‘Course not. But I didn’t think things would get so dramatic that disbandment was a viable option.’

‘Well, it makes sense,’ Kenzou said. ‘The Inuzuka twins’ team with Daichi has already been split up – even Yui and Yue themselves aren’t going on as many missions together, and they’re identical. Times are changing, Jiraiya. My team is just the latest in a long line.’

‘What, d’you reckon we’ll be disbanded next?’ Jiraiya replied, a hint of unrest in his voice.

‘Contrary to popular believe, I don’t know everything,’ Kenzou said. ‘But it’s not exactly logical to keep you three together. I mean, one has a team of his own, one’s a medical genius, and one’s…well, you, Jiraiya. It makes tactical sense to spread you three amongst other groups and disperse your talents. Especially the Princess’s. Do you know how much the success rate of missions increases when a medical ninja is in tow?’

Orochimaru and Jiraiya both shook their heads.

‘Up to 80%,’ Kenzou said. ‘So, I wouldn’t be surprised if Princess Tsunade is poached from your precious little line-up soon enough. But, really, do you three even count as a team anymore?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Jiraiya said, tensing.

Kenzou stretched out his arms, as if the effort of talking was getting too much for him. ‘I mean, the Hokage is meant to be your team leader. When was the last time he wasn’t chained to desk, hm? And even without him, we all heard about the little spat between you and Tsunade. For Gods’ sake, Jiraiya, she put you in the hospital. Do you really think anyone would be dumb enough to leave you two in the same room, let alone on the same team?’

Orochimaru clenched his fists, wanting to spit back a scathing answer, but Jiraiya took the lead.

‘Tsu and I sorted that out,’ Jiraiya said breezily. ‘Besides, it’s no one’s business but our own. We work well together – and with Oro, of course – and we get results. If the higher-ups _don’t_ put us on the same team because of something that happened after hours, then they are dumb after all.’

Kenzou blinked in surprise, before he smirked again. ‘Point taken. But I’d be wary, guys. Seems like the Hokage and his henchmen are culling most of the original teams from our Genin days. Having a reshuffle - or so they say. If you want to stay together, then build a case for yourselves, alright?’

‘You’re worried about us?’ Jiraiya said, raising his eyebrows.

‘Hardly,’ Kenzou said. ‘I’m just looking out for Konoha’s benefit. You guys _do_ have a good success rate, hospitalisation or not. And besides…’ Kenzou trailed off, looking at the clouds.

‘Besides what?’ Orochimaru pressed impatiently.

Kenzou, his neck still craned to the sky, gave a low chuckle. ‘Hmm. Seeing you three together makes me nostalgic for the good old days.’

He waved behind his head at the two boys as he carried on his nonchalant stroll, leaving the pair with a lot to think about. Jiraiya nibbled his lip anxiously and turned to Orochimaru.

‘Do you think they’ll disband us? For good?’ he said.

Orochimaru sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Jiraiya. I hope not. But Kenzou has a point – we’re caught up with our own responsibilities of late, aren’t we? And our skills are totally different. I’ve got a team of my own and I’m looking to join a faction of the ANBU, Tsunade is well on her way to becoming part of the furniture at the Hospital, and you’re a Jonin, now, who still needs to finish training in senjutsu. We’re busy people. Keeping us clumped together might do more damage than good.’

‘What, you _want_ us to be split up?’ Jiraiya said incredulously.

‘Never,’ Orochimaru said, his voice wavering slightly. He swallowed and composed himself. ‘I don’t want us to be apart as much as you do. But, as it was made abundantly clear when we went on our renegade mission to the Land of Mountains, defying orders does not end well.’

Jiraiya puffed out his cheeks and let out a long sigh. ‘Well, we’d best make the most of our time together then, eh?’

*

The next time Jiraiya and Orochimaru saw Tsunade, she was running around like a headless chicken.

‘That order of balloons should have arrived yesterday!’ she squawked, frantically rifling through a large collection of half-open cardboard boxes, which were precariously assembled in her parents’ vacant bedroom.

‘Chill out, Tsu, they’re here,’ Jiraiya said, nudging one of the smaller boxes with his toe.

‘Don’t kick it,’ she hissed, leaping up and bounding over to where Jiraiya was standing.

‘I didn’t kick it, I pushed it with my foot!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘Besides, it’s not like they’re gonna pop – they’re not even inflated yet.’

‘Which is another thing to add to the list,’ Tsunade groaned, scrambling through the packing peanuts and gesturing to the clipboard resting on the bed.

Nervously, Orochimaru approached the bed and looked at the list. Tsunade’s penmanship had never been exceptional, but all he could make out was that there was a lot to do ahead of the big day. Her cramped handwriting squashed right to the bottom of the page, and, to his acute horror, his name seemed to feature a lot (from what he could actually read). He picked it up and swallowed thickly.

‘Erm, Tsunade?’ he said cautiously.

‘What?’ she said, sticking her head up from what was essentially, at that point, an extravagant fort of cardboard boxes.

‘You do realise I’m on duty this afternoon, right? So I doubt I’ll have time to…’ he squinted at the page, trying to decipher her handwriting, ‘inflate the balloons, hang up the streamers, source the party poppers, help Mito paint the…er…main banner, I think, or indeed locate enough chocolate for the chocolate fountain.’

‘And making some mini taco sausages, can’t forget those,’ Jiraiya said, peering over his shoulder and supressing a laugh at all the things Tsunade had assigned to him.

‘I thought Mito was in charge of the food?’ Orochimaru said weakly.

‘Yeah, but she’ll need a hand,’ Tsunade said, her voice muffled by the box her head was currently in. Clusters of packing peanuts flew out from behind her as she scurried through it like some sort of squirrel hibernating for the winter. ‘She’s in charge of the cake, primarily, and that isn’t something to be taken lightly.’

‘Sure, not where Mito’s concerned,’ Jiraiya smiled, thinking back to all of the incredible designs she had conjured up for various special occasions.

‘That may be so, but Danzo has asked that I -’ Orochimaru was cut off when Tsunade ascended from the box with a triumphant ‘aha!’, brandishing a pack of soon-to-filled party bags.

‘Party bags?’ Jiraiya frowned. ‘He’s gonna be 12, Tsunade, not 6.’

‘More importantly, how many people are you even expecting?’ Orochimaru said, astonished as Tsunade tore open the pack and emptied a good 20 or so bags onto the floorboards, grinning like a maniac.

‘More than my 12th, at any rate,’ she said, collecting them up and shoving them in a pile. ‘And party bags are ageless, Jiraiya. I was sort of disappointed you guys didn’t organise any for my 16th.’

‘Well, forgive us for not wanting to burden your guests with a bag full of childish tatt,’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘And considering we were the only two guests, it wouldn’t have had much of an impact, would it?’

‘Shion was there too,’ Tsunade said, ripping open another box.

‘Yes, and what’s better than letting little-Miss-murderous-genjutsu run riot with a…miniature water gun?’ Jiraiya snorted, perplexed as Tsunade produced a pack of novelty water guns to bulk out the party bags.

‘They’re just a bit of fun, Jiraiya,’ Tsunade huffed. ‘Besides, I need to attract guests somehow. Grandmother is making enough food to feed 50 people, and then some, and I’m not even sure Nawaki _knows_ 50 people.’

‘And you think water guns and party bags are the answer?’ Orochimaru said sceptically.

Tsunade sighed and slumped back against the wardrobe, looking defeated. A packing peanut was tangled in her hair and she looked about ready to sleep for a week. ‘Oh, I dunno. I just want this party to be a success, that’s all. It’s the first one since Mother’s death, and given that Father is absolutely _not_ invited, I can’t help but feel like I need to make it up to Nawaki, somehow.’

‘Well party bags are more likely to scare people away, especially if you fill them with this rubbish,’ Jiraiya smirked, gesturing around the room noncommittedly.

Tsunade looked like she wanted to throw something at him, but composed herself. ‘Gods, what would you suggest then, oh wise one?’

Jiraiya, who couldn’t read sarcasm unless it was painted backwards on his forehead, put his hands on his hips and frowned. ‘Well…Mito’s cooking ought to be incentive enough, but if you really want to make it a soiree no one will forget, then you gotta go big.’

‘Isn’t this big enough?’ Tsunade said meekly, half-heartedly holding up what looked like some sort of bubble-making machine.

‘You – you’ve got a bubble machine?’ Orochimaru stuttered, staring at it as though all of his wildest dreams had come true.

‘See, Oro likes it,’ Tsunade said dismissively.

‘Oro doesn’t count,’ Jiraiya said, glaring at him. ‘I meant that we need to make a statement. Don’t forget, Tsunade, this might be the first birthday without your parents, but it’s also his first birthday as a Genin. As a man. You can’t shower him with balloons and streamers like he’s still a kid, you know. You gotta stop mollycoddling him.’

Dejectedly, Tsunade looked around the room and fiddled with one of the many packing peanuts littering the floor. _Good thing no one stays in this room anymore_ , she thought glumly.

‘Listen,’ Jiraiya said, stepping between the boxes, ‘I know you want to make this a special day, and I for one think it’s really touching, but this isn’t the right approach.’

‘Even the bubble machine?’ Orochimaru piped up.

‘ _Especially_ the bubble machine,’ Jiraiya said firmly. ‘Nawaki isn’t a kid anymore, Tsu. He’s been going out on missions with Orochimaru’s team, and doing well, by all accounts. He’s growing up. And to put it really bluntly, no amount of balloons or party bags is going to disguise the fact that Komako isn’t here.’

Tsunade swallowed thickly, the packing peanut squashed in her palm. ‘I know that. But I figured that going all out would distract him, at least for a little while.’

Jiraiya sat down next to her, leaning his arm against one of the boxes. ‘Yeah, and it’s a good plan. But do you really think Nawaki would want all of this going on?’

‘He loves celebrations,’ Tsunade said stubbornly. ‘He was quite upset you guys didn’t let him tag along to mine.’

‘We didn’t think you’d want him getting any ideas about fire eating,’ Orochimaru said, sitting on the edge of the dusty bed and thinking back to the raucous travelling show they’d attended.

‘Point taken,’ Tsunade said. ‘But honestly, I know him better than you two. And while he boasts about being a man, being all grown up and able to hold his own, you don’t see him when he’s snivelling into my shoulder because he’s got a messed-up knee. He’s not as tough as you think.’

‘I figured that much out for myself,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Nawaki is a lot like Jiraiya. All bark and no bite.’

‘I can bite, thank you very much,’ Jiraiya said, and Orochimaru gulped. ‘And yeah, I get that, Tsu, but outwardly, he wants to be taken seriously. Believe me when I say this is _not_ the way to go.’

Tsunade sighed miserably and drew her knees to her chest. ‘Then what is?’

Jiraiya hummed in thought, drumming his fingers on his chin. Then, a broad grin began to stretch over his face. ‘What we need is a statement. One that screams ‘I’m the Grandson of the First Hokage, and I’m gonna follow in his footsteps!’. He’s always going on about that, isn’t he?’

‘You bet,’ Orochimaru mumbled. If he had a penny for every time Nawaki declared he’d be Hokage during their training sessions, he’d be the richest man in the Land of Fire.

‘What, and balloons, cake, and a chocolate fountain aren’t enough?’ Tsunade said.

Jiraiya shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. ‘I reckon this is all about the venue. We’d need Sarutobi-sensei’s permission, but since your family technically owns the Mansion, Tsu, it shouldn’t be much of a problem.’

‘We’re not having it here!’ Tsunade said. ‘He lives here – that would just be boring.’

‘I’m not talking about the house,’ Jiraiya said. ‘There’s a danger of inhaling packing peanuts here, at any rate. I’m talking about the roof.’

Tsunade and Orochimaru stared at him like he was a madman.

‘Before you go off,’ Jiraiya said, holding up a hand as Tsunade geared up to protest, ‘just think about it for a second. Connected to the Hokage’s legacy? Check. Oversees the entire Village? Check. Surrounded on all sides in case someone gets bladdered and nearly falls off the roof? Check. Is under the supreme gaze of the both the geezers on the Monument? Check. And, let’s not forget, it’s the very place the Hokage makes his speech when he’s inaugurated. Nawaki would _love_ it. Hell, he’d feel like he was on top of the world! I sure would.’

Orochimaru seemed fairly convinced, given it was Jiraiya’s idea, but Tsunade’s face was still furrowed in a frown. Jiraiya sighed, leaning forward to gently pluck the packing peanut from her hair. She winced slightly as he moved towards to her, a reaction he was used to due to her own nervousness about touching him, but he ignored her. He untangled the packing peanut from the strands of her blonde hair and flicked it over his shoulder, where it landed in the box. _Goddamn, I’m smooth_.

‘That’s not all, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said, his tone serious. ‘Having it on the roof of the Mansion, close to his home but not directly inside it, connects him to Komako. I know you wanna distract him, but to be honest, Nawaki is gonna sense her absence no matter what you do. This way, you’re not actively trying to cover up her memory, but celebrate it. She’s been on that roof more times than we can count, and she…well, it’s a good viewpoint, right? For her to look down from up there.’

Tsunade’s breath caught in her throat as Jiraiya smiled at her, no hint of teasing of goofiness in his face. He was being sincere. He wanted Nawaki to have the best birthday ever, and he was damn sure he was going to make it happen. Tsunade smiled back at him, before nodding.

‘Sarutobi-sensei will need some convincing,’ she said. ‘But it’s an excellent idea.’

‘I do have them from time to time,’ he winked.

‘Yeah, once in a blue moon,’ Tsunade said.

‘That’s being generous,’ Orochimaru smirked.

‘Hey!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘I just came up with the coolest venue idea in the history of venue ideas, and you guys are _still_ finding room to criticise me?’

‘It’s one of our many, many charms,’ Tsunade grinned.

‘Besides, you’d be miserable if we changed, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said. ‘You were so cut up over our potential split earlier that I was genuinely worried you might burst into tears.’

‘Don’t exaggerate,’ Jiraiya said hotly, as Tsunade started to laugh for what felt like the first time in months.

‘I’m sorry, what?’ she giggled, looking between an amused Orochimaru and a fuming Jiraiya.

‘Captain Soppy here was getting all worked up over our team disbanding this morning that he practically cried all over Kenzou Nara,’ Orochimaru grinned, clearly playing up the event for his own amusement. ‘Honestly, Tsunade, you should have seen him -’ he was cut off when Jiraiya hurled a packet of uninflated balloons at his face, and they smacked him in the face with a wet, pathetic slap.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Tsunade burst out laughing, clutching her stomach at the look on Orochimaru’s face.

‘Cat got your tongue, Oro?’ Jiraiya winked. ‘Or is it a balloon?’

‘Oh, you are _so_ dead,’ Orochimaru growled, blindly searching for the first thing he could find, which happened to be the clipboard. He leapt over the boxes in an impressive show of acrobatics and thwacked Jiraiya over the head with it.

‘Hey!’ Jiraiya yelped. ‘No fair! Those balloons weren’t nearly as solid as that!’

‘Pick your weapon,’ Orochimaru declared, ignoring him, brandishing the clipboard like it was a mighty shield.

His eyes gleaming, Jiraiya stuck his hand into one of the boxes and pulled out –

‘– don’t you dare throw those plates!’ Tsunade cried. ‘They’re part of a set!’

‘They’re made of _paper_ , Tsu, I’m sure you’ll cope,’ Jiraiya said, before hurling one like a Frisbee at Orochimaru. It glanced off the clipboard expertly, and Jiraiya grinned like a little kid, throwing them one after the other.

‘For goodness sake, I told you not to,’ Tsunade huffed. ‘We need those for the food tomorrow.’

‘Give over, Tsu!’ Jiraiya chuckled, as a plate went flying just shy of Orochimaru’s left ear. ‘Loosen up once in a while, eh? You’re being a bore.’

Exasperatedly, Tsunade got to her feet and marched out of the room. Jiraiya and Orochimaru stopped messing around almost immediately, exchanging a nervous look. Slowly, Jiraiya abandoned the plates, looking guiltily at the floor.

‘Sheesh. I didn’t actually think she’d care about some paper plates,’ he mumbled.

Orochimaru sighed and threw the clipboard back on the bed. ‘Well, we should have learnt by now that her emotional bandwidth is a bit limited. We ought to try and help her with all this. It’s obvious all she wants is for Nawaki to have a good day, and us messing around like this isn’t helping.’

Jiraiya lowered his head. ‘Yeah. You’re right. I just thought it might cheer her up, or something.’

‘Us acting like idiots is, apparently, not the way to go,’ Orochimaru said. ‘And nor is calling her names.’

‘She calls me names all the time,’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘Yes, well, you’re thicker skinned than she is of late,’ Orochimaru said evenly. ‘Come on, let’s try and clear through some of these boxes while she calms down, alright?’

‘True. I’m sure she just needs a moment to - gah!’

He was cut off when his was hit full force with a spurt of water from the doorway.

‘Guess these water guns came in handy after all, huh?’ Tsunade beamed, twirling one of florescent toys she had snuck out to fill between her fingers.

‘Oh, you sneaky little – blehgah!’ Jiraiya choked, taking another face full.

‘Nice shot, Tsu,’ Orochimaru snorted.

‘Don’t think you’re out of the woods, Oro!’ Tsunade laughed. ‘You’re the one who encouraged him in the first place!’

‘You’re not seriously going to – hey! Tsunade!’ Orochimaru groaned, unable to dodge the stream of water aimed at him.

‘Hell yes I am,’ she laughed, cocking the gun like someone sort of Western heroine.

The next half an hour involved Orochimaru and Jiraiya getting soaked to the skin, Tsunade slipping on a pile of mushy packing peanuts, and, to Orochimaru’s great heartbreak, the demolishment of the bubble machine when Jiraiya accidentally stamped on it trying to avoid a shot from the water gun.

Breathless, the three of them collapsed on the floor.

‘Think I won that round, guys,’ Tsunade panted.

‘You had an unfair elemental advantage,’ Orochimaru huffed, squeezing the ends of his hair out. He glanced down at Jiraiya, who was lying spread-eagle on his back and moving his limbs erratically. ‘And what, pray tell, are you doing?’

Jiraiya blinked up at his sopping wet teammate as he frowned down at him while he moved his hands and legs along the floor in unison.

‘Can’t you tell?’ he grinned. ‘I’m making a packing peanut angel!’

Orochimaru groaned and facepalmed for what felt like the millionth time that day, and Tsunade doubled over in hysterics, tears of laughter streaming down her face.

‘You’re such a freaking idiot,’ she said, breathless with laughter.

‘It’s one of my many, many charms,’ Jiraiya beamed, repeating her earlier sentiment. In truth, he was just thrilled to see her so happy-go-lucky and laughing again. Like they used to.

‘In all seriousness, you two, I really do have duties to perform,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I can come back to help this evening, but Danzo will have my head if I’m not with him in the next five minutes.’

‘Oh, let the old geezer wait,’ Jiraiya said, sitting up from his packing peanut angel and cracking his neck. ‘There are more important things to think about right now than that creep.’

Orochimaru wished he could agree, but he needed to stay in Danzo’s good books. After the cock-up with the Inoshishi exposed Orochimaru’s willingness to disobey him and Hiruzen (though the latter was less important, insofar as Danzo was concerned), he’d been anxiously trying to make it up to him. Danzo held all the answers to the Fires of Takigakure, the hushed-up event that killed his parents, and Orochimaru was still desperate to find out what had happened. He stood up, glaring down at his wet clothes.

‘I’ll need to run home and change first,’ he huffed.

‘Could always take something from the wardrobe,’ Tsunade said, pointing. ‘Father still hasn’t picked up most of his stuff, after all. I know you’re not the same size, but if you’re in a rush, he wouldn’t notice a few missing shirts.’

‘D’you reckon he’ll ever come back?’ Jiraiya asked, as Orochimaru opened the wardrobe in search of the standard Shinobi uniform shirt.

‘I should be so lucky,’ Tsunade scoffed.

Jiraiya sighed, searching her face. ‘You really mean that?’

‘Of course I do,’ Tsunade said, irritated ‘I told you what transpired at Nawaki’s graduation meal. He overstepped the mark. I’m under no obligation to forgive him, let alone welcome him back home. Besides, I’m not sure if we’ll be here much longer.’

‘Huh? What are you talking about?’ Jiraiya said, as Orochimaru turned to listen.

‘Well,’ Tsunade said, a strange, wistful smile on her face, ‘I’ve been talking to Biwako about the future – hers and Sarutobi-sensei’s, I mean. And, not to gross you out, but they’re thinking of starting a family. There’s room enough for all of us given the size of the place, but Grandmother and I both think it’s time to move on and let them have the space they need to grow.’

‘I can’t imagine Sarutobi-sensei having the time to raise a family, given he’s in the office all the time,’ Orochimaru said, his voice muffled slightly as he yanked off his shirt.

‘Or Biwako, for that matter. She practically runs the Hospital,’ Tsunade said. ‘But I know she wants to be a mother. If she can pin down Sarutobi-sensei long enough for that to happen, that is.’

‘Egh, Tsu!’ Jiraiya exclaimed, pulling a face.

‘What?’ she said.

‘I don’t wanna think about Sarutobi-sensei being pinned down by anyone, thank you very much.’

Orochimaru snorted and Tsunade rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, you moron. I just meant -’

‘ – nope, nope, the damage is done,’ Jiraiya said, grimacing. ‘I’m never going to get that horrendous image out of my head.’

‘Get a grip,’ Tsunade said dismissively. ‘If you’re not mature enough to handle an accidental insinuation, then you’re certainly not ready to handle the real thing.’

Orochimaru laughed out loud as he pulled on a dry shirt that smelt slightly of alcohol, and poor Jiraiya looked mortified.

‘Well excuse me for not wanting to think about our crusty old Sensei in the throes of passion,’ he said hotly, folding his arms and pouting.

‘Forgive me, Jiraiya, I didn’t think you were so delicate,’ Tsunade teased, leaning forward and poking his cheek. As Jiraiya batted her off, Orochimaru was struck with a sense of realisation. It was the first time in 8 months that Tsunade had voluntarily touched him. Even if it _was_ to tease him. He smiled to himself. It was a tiny step in the right direction, but a step nonetheless.

‘Right, I’m off,’ Orochimaru said, picking up his wet shirt and hanging it over the bedframe. ‘I’ll come by tonight, if that’s alright, to pick this up and help out with the final preparations.’

‘Sure, but only if you help Grandmother with those taco sausages,’ Tsunade grinned.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ Orochimaru muttered.

‘Blame Jiraiya. You used to be terrible in the kitchen until he taught you a thing or two,’ Tsunade said, standing up to assess the damage. The room was littered with packing peanuts, bits of cardboard, splashes of water, and unopened boxes for the party. She sighed and put her hands on her hips. ‘I’d best sort this mess out. You staying, Jiraiya?’

‘Sure,’ he grinned. ‘I wanna see if we can fix that bubble-making machine. Might break Oro’s heart if we don’t.’

Muttering something under his breath, Orochimaru turned to leave. Before he did, however, he gave himself a moment to look at his friends. They were bickering lightly with each other, like they used to, as Tsunade recounted a list of orders from her clipboard. But they seemed at ease. Orochimaru suddenly remembered the words he’d exchanged with Sakumo Hatake: _with the right help and the right processes, I can’t see any reason why they won’t be ‘in sync’ again_. He sucked in a breath. They were healing. It was slow, it was difficult, and at times he had wanted to hit the wall in frustration, but his two dear friends were getting back to normal once more.

*

With Hiruzen’s slightly bewildered permission – _you’re insane, it’ll be freezing up there!_ – the trio were allowed to start setting up on the roof of the Mansion for Nawaki’s celebration. It was very tricky trying to sneak all of the supplies from the Senju wing to the roof, especially with Nawaki lurking eagerly around every turn, but on the evening before the big day, there was finally some semblance of organisation.

‘Do you think we should put the fairy lights around the pillars, or around the railings?’ Tsunade said thoughtfully, surveying the area and tapping a pen to her chin.

‘Railings’, Jiraiya said, just as Orochimaru said ‘pillars.’ They exchanged a look at each other, grinning, as Tsunade rolled her eyes.

‘The pillars would look more striking,’ Orochimaru said, wandering over and patting one heartily. ‘Plus, they’re a staple of the Hokage Mansion. It would be a shame not to highlight the iconography of it all.’

‘Yeah, but putting lights on the railings makes them more obvious for any drunken idiots in danger of falling over the edge,’ Jiraiya winked.

‘What sort of a party do you think this is, Jiraiya?’ Tsunade said, her eyebrow twitching in irritation. ‘It’s a 12th birthday celebration. There won’t _be_ any alcohol.’

‘Then what the heck am I gonna do with all this?’ Jiraiya said, kicking a box that tinkled with the promise of glass bottles at the motion.

Tsunade marched over and ripped open the box, looking murderous. ‘Right, who put in an order for…oh, for goodness sake, _twenty-one_ bottles of premium sake?!’

Hiruzen, who had looked up guiltily at her raised voice, cleared his throat. ‘Erm…that would be me, I’m afraid, Tsunade. I take any chance I can get for a nice drink and a break. Nawaki’s party seems as good an opportunity as any.’

‘Wahey, never took you for a rule-breaker, Sensei,’ Jiraiya smirked, leaning against the railing and folding his arms.

‘It’s not breaking any rules. I’m far above the drinking age,’ Hiruzen said coolly.

‘Not that far, dear, you’re only 34,’ Biwako said fondly, patting his cheek. ‘Besides, didn’t you say we were going to cut down on drinking, what with our plans? Alcohol can impact on performance, you know.’

Hiruzen went a bit pink, huffing and spluttering, as Jiraiya gagged dramatically. ‘Not in front of my students, please, Biwako.’

‘Oh, please,’ Biwako said, shaking her head. ‘It’s only sex, Hiruzen. I’m sure your precious students can cope with such a concept.’

His precious students, in fact, could not cope with such a concept. Jiraiya’s gagging demonstration reached new heights as he doubled over, as if it was the most horrific thought in the world, Orochimaru went slightly green, and Tsunade, desperate to avert her gaze, stuck her head inside an empty box as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. So much for ‘maturity’.

Shaking his head, Hiruzen busied himself securing the poles for a large gazebo that would cover the food tables. It wasn’t supposed to rain, but you could never be too careful. Mito would be mortified if all her hard work went to waste. She was in the kitchen cooking away while he, his three students, Biwako, and Benjiro worked on decorating the roof. It was coming together just as Tsunade had envisioned – minus the fairy lights, which were still up for debate. A large banner was stretched between two of the pillars, with wobbly lettering spelling out ‘Happy 12th Birthday, Nawaki!’ painted on it, balloons were secured to every available setting, tables and chairs were arranged with such precision that Hiruzen wondered if she’d used a measuring tape, and, at Jiraiya’s behest, a few targets with brightly coloured, toy kunai were set up in one area for a game he hadn’t yet come up with. Hashirama and Tobirama’s stone faces looked on stoically as they ran around sorting out the final touches, and Hiruzen smiled. _Tsunade really does have an eye for this sort of thing. My wedding was beautiful, and this is, too._

‘Reckon we should decorate the old geezers?’ Jiraiya grinned, pointing up with the paintbrush he was using to write out the instructions for his kunai ‘game’.

Tsunade looked up, a strange expression on her face. ‘You know what, I reckon Grandfather would take it in good spirits. My Great-uncle, though? Not so much.’

‘You are _not_ desecrating the Hokage monument with paint, you two,’ Hiruzen said severely.

‘How about we wait till you’ve had a few glasses of sake and ask you then?’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘Don’t start,’ Hiruzen said. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about you crawling all over the mountain.’

Tsunade, who was counting paper plates (some of which were dented from Jiraiya and Orochimaru’s epic battle) looked concerned. ‘Are we keeping you, Sensei? We have enough spare hands at the moment – if you need to get back to work, I’m sure we can handle it.’

‘No, no,’ Hiruzen said, waving his hands in the air dismissively. ‘I _want_ to help. I’ve known Nawaki his whole life – and besides, if the Council members can’t hold the fort for one evening, I should start looking for new members!’

He laughed heartily, but he wasn’t sure if Tsunade bought it. She was too sharp for her own good, and could sense something was amiss. In truth, Hiruzen was still preoccupied with his most recent meeting. The threat of an all-out war was far in the future, but it still took up most of his spare thoughts. He felt for Biwako, too. He was well aware she wanted children, but his commitment to the Village often threatened his commitment to her. In his opinion, it was a wonder she remained by his side at all.

‘Well, if you’re sure, Sensei,’ Tsunade said, picking up the plates and carrying them over to the buffet table. He smiled at her as she went. Ever since her outburst against poor Jiraiya, she had seemed less hot-headed. It was as though the dam breaking, and her seeing the impact of her own anger, had forced her to face up to the sort of person she was becoming. She still struggled with her temper, but Hiruzen, in all his quiet observation, could sense she was working on it. She had thrown herself into her work at the Hospital as well as her familial duties – she doted on Nawaki, partly making up for Komako’s absence, but mostly out of love, and she concentrated hard on bettering herself. Hiruzen had seen her training, by herself or with Nawaki, and mediating in the Mansion’s courtyard well into the night, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of her. _If she keeps this up, becoming a Jonin wouldn’t be such a wild thought._

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Jiraiya announced. ‘Let’s put the lights around the pillars.’

‘I knew you’d see sense,’ Orochimaru said, as he began untangling the reams of lights. ‘But we’ll need to find a power outlet or something, else it’s pointless.’

‘Worry about that later!’ Jiraiya called, already scrambling up the pillar like a spider monkey. ‘Just make sure to catch me if I lose my footing!’

‘And risk being crushed? Fat chance,’ Orochimaru said.

As the two boys set to work carefully winding the lights around the pillars, Benjiro sat crossed-legged on the floor, busy assembling a large array of paper lanterns.

‘You okay there?’ Tsunade smiled, noting his confused expression. It was so similar to the one that Jiraiya often sported, she was almost taken-aback.

‘There seems to be one too few of the wire expanders,’ Benjiro frowned, scratching his head. ‘I’ve counted 12 of the lanterns, but only 11 of the frames.’

‘That doesn’t seem right,’ Tsunade said. ‘They should have come in pairs.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Benjiro said, peering at one of the lanterns with an expression one could only describe as bemusement. ‘But it’s definitely not in the box.’ He learnt forward on his knees, huffing, as he scrambled around again just to be sure. Tsunade bit the insides of her cheeks, clearly trying not to laugh.

‘What?’ Benjiro said indignantly, when he heard her trying to disguise her giggling. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘The wire,’ Tsunade grinned. ‘You were sat on it.’

Startled, Benjiro whipped around to where he was previously perched, and found the wire on the floor. It was quirked off at an odd angle and seemed a lot more warped than the other wire frames.

‘Oh dear,’ he said, rubbing the back of neck bashfully. ‘I rather think I’ve bent it out of shape.’

Tsunade snorted, offering out her hand. ‘Luckily for you, I’m an expert in wire assembly.’

‘Is that so?’ Benjiro said, raising his eyebrows.

‘Sure!’ she beamed, taking it from him. ‘It’s all in the wrist movement, see.’

‘You ought to be careful,’ Benjiro said, unable to disguise his scepticism. ‘If my backside could warp it so easily, I can’t imagine the metal is very strong.’

‘Oh, I know my own strength, Benjiro,’ Tsunade said, shrugging. ‘If these last few months helping Nawaki train have taught me anything, it’s how to pull my – ah.’

There was a snap, and the wire expander was in pieces in her hands. Benjiro couldn’t help but laugh at her startled expression, shaking his head.

‘But…there’s meant to be 12,’ Tsunade said dejectedly, cradling the ruined frame mournfully in her hands.

‘Let’s just hope young Nawaki hasn’t grasped the ability to count yet,’ Benjiro winked, patting her on the shoulder.

By the time it started to get really cold – _we’ll have to get a chiminea to keep it warm tomorrow,_ Orochimaru had said – _so we can roast marshmallows!_ Jiraiya had piped up – the roof had totally transformed. Putting the lights around the pillars had been a good call, and the lanterns (eleven, not twelve) were twinkling merrily from lines of extended rope that hung overhead. The gazebo was large and covered the seating area as well as the soon-to-be-filled buffet table, and, despite _everyone’s_ protest, Tsunade had assembled a collection of party bags and piled them near the top of the stairs. 

‘What?’ she huffed, as Jiraiya and Orochimaru looked from the bags back to her with raised eyebrows.

‘Nothing!’ Jiraiya said, feigning innocence. ‘But don’t blame me if no one takes one home with them.’

‘Well,’ Hiruzen said, dusting his hands together, ‘I think it all looks rather splendid. Bring on tomorrow, I say. What time is it due to start, Tsunade?’

‘Orochimaru has them training in the morning,’ Tsunade replied, glaring reproachfully at her teammate, ‘so, it’ll be an afternoon start. I know his squad members and a few of his classmates are coming along, but it would be great if you could make an appearance at some point, Sensei.’

‘Me?’ Hiruzen gasped. ‘I can’t imagine young Nawaki would want a crusty old man like me gate-crashing his birthday.’

‘You’re not a crusty old man!’ Biwako said firmly, grabbing his arm.

‘He loves having you around,’ Tsunade smiled. ‘You’ve been here so long you’re practically part of the furniture. Plus, having the actual Hokage show up to his birthday party would be a massive deal for him – you and I both know how much he likes to show off!’

‘Yes,’ Hiruzen mumbled. ‘You two seem to share that quality.’

‘Ouch,’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘We’ll be here, Tsunade, don’t you worry,’ Biwako beamed, her arm intertwining with Hiruzen’s. ‘But it’s getting late, and we have some…ahem… _work_ to do.’

‘Egh, again with the baby talk?!’ Jiraiya grimaced, wincing as if he’d been personally offended. Orochimaru shuddered slightly at the thought, but hid his expression by hiding behind Jiraiya’s broad shoulder.

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Biwako winked, dragging a mortified Hiruzen back down the stairs.

‘Ah, young love,’ Benjiro said, gazing after them fondly.

‘They’re hardly _young_ , Pa,’ Jiraiya scowled. ‘They’ve been married for over a year and been together for what feels like forever.’

‘I remember how eager dear Junko was to fall pregnant,’ Benjiro sighed, clearly not paying the slightest bit of attention to his son and gazing wistfully into the distance. ‘Why, I could hardly get anything done. The moment I tried to leave, there she was, practically carrying me back to bed -’

‘Pa!’ Jiraiya groaned. ‘Stop!’

‘What?’ Benjiro said innocently, as Orochimaru and Tsunade started to crack up. ‘It’s only the birds and the bees, Jiraiya. You ought to be grateful. If it weren’t for our gusto, you wouldn’t be here today!’

Jiraiya plugged his hands over his ears, uttering _shut up, shut up, shut up_ like his life depended on it. Orochimaru was clutching his stomach in laughter, and Tsunade had to lean against the rail to compose herself. She was certain that, given any other evening, Benjiro’s declarations and Jiraiya’s mortification would not have been so amusing to the pair of them, but there was something magical that night. It might have been the cool night air, washing over them and refreshing them for the day ahead, or the yellow lights sparkling delicately against the dark sky, or even the atmosphere of a group of old friends working together for someone they loved, but Tsunade felt like everything had fallen into the place.

It happens that way, sometimes. For no real reason you can pin down, everything suddenly seems…lighter. Your heart fills faster, you’re quick to laugh, and eager to share. Happiness comes easier. Nights like that are the ones you cherish and think back on fondly when life gets a little bit gloomy. The nights scored on your heart for all time. And as Tsunade, breathless with laughter, watched Orochimaru literally cry in a fit of giggles while Jiraiya ran around the roof yelling _SHUT UP, PA,_ she was certain it was a night she’d love for an eternity.

*

Nawaki couldn’t believe his eyes when Tsunade led him up the roof the next afternoon, her eyes alight with glee and his wide with amazement. While it was still light out, the sun casting orange streaks to dye the clouds, the lanterns and fairy lights were lit and the entire place looked enchanted. Everyone was there waiting for him, positioned in a line directly underneath the Hokage Monument. Jiraiya and Orochimaru, Nawaki’s teammates - Atsuko Uchiha and Kenji Nakamura – a generous handful of his beaming classmates, Hiruzen and Biwako, Benjiro, Mito, and, to Tsunade’s great surprise, Sakumo Hatake, accompanied by a woman she didn’t recognise.

‘Now!’ Jiraiya ordered, grinning from ear to ear. Each of the guests reached behind their backs and produced a party popper. 

‘Happy birthday, Nawaki!’ they cried, in perfect synchrony, as they fired off the party poppers. Streams of brightly coloured papers burst from the line and draped over the floor, and Nawaki, who was beaming so brightly he might have been mistaken from the sun. He immediately flung around to Tsunade, gaping at her in pure adoration.

‘You did _all_ of this, for me?!’ he exclaimed.

‘Well,’ Tsunade said, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair in front of his friends, ‘I did have help. A lot of help.’ She cast her gaze over to Jiraiya and Orochimaru in particular, and gave them a small, fond smile.

‘This is amazing!’ Nawaki cried, flinging his arms open wide as if he was trying to hug the entire populace of Konoha. He probably was, knowing his sweet little soul. ‘Look at all the _food_! And the cake! And – and – wait, is that a bubble machine?!’

Nawaki ran off in the direction of the machine Orochimaru was proudly manning, completely beside himself with joy. Jiraiya had given up fixing it and decided to source a new one, and Tsunade couldn’t quite work out who was more thrilled; her kid brother or her ‘once in a generation genius’ of a teammate.

‘Sheesh, didn’t even give you a hug for all your hard work,’ Sakumo said, walking up to her with the mystery woman.

‘There’s plenty of time for that,’ Tsunade smiled. She looked at the woman and offered a hand. ‘I don’t know if we’ve met before, have we?’

‘Yes, well,’ Sakumo said, clearing his throat, ‘it’s a recent development, of sorts. I hope you don’t mind us turning up like this, Tsunade, but Lord Third mentioned you might need more bums on seats, and I’m a sucker for a free buffet.’

‘What he means is we hope we’re not intruding,’ the woman winked, taking Tsunade’s hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. My name is Kiyoko Arakawa. My family owns a business in a small town just outside the Village, but we’ve always been fond of keeping up with the goings-on in Konoha. We’re even thinking of moving here, if we can expand our business!’

‘Pleasure is mine!’ Tsunade said, shaking Kiyoko’s hand heartily and beaming at her. ‘Is that so? What sort of business we talking?’

‘It’s only a small business,’ Kiyoko said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was very pretty, Tsunade noted, and had long, white-blonde hair and startling blue eyes. She seemed quite out of place, her movements jittery, but Tsunade assumed she was probably nervous about being on a roof full of strangers.

‘Every business starts off small,’ Tsunade said encouragingly, trying to ease her nerves.

‘That’s true enough,’ Kiyoko smiled, pushing a pair of silver-framed glasses up her nose. ‘We run a few inns. Not many, and nothing extravagant or anything like that, but we have one in my hometown, and few more scattered over the Land of Fire. What with travel being more frequent, as the First Shinobi has long since burned out, we’re pretty happy with how it’s going.’

Tsunade hummed in thought. ‘Hmm…interesting. You know, if you want to set up camp _here_ , I have a bit of sway with Konoha’s affairs, being a Senju and all. But the guy you’ll really wanna talk to it my Sensei. He’s over there.’

Kiyoko looked over her shoulder to where Hiruzen was stood chatting jovially with Mito. ‘I – the Hokage?’ she spluttered. ‘Why, I wouldn’t dare! I’m here as a guest, not to network, and besides, I’d feel terribly rude just going up there and -’

She was cut off when Tsunade grabbed her hand and practically dragged her over to wear Hiruzen and Mito were stood, chatting eagerly all the while. Kiyoko looked quite alarmed, unable to process that she’d just met Konoha Royalty and was now on her way to meeting _the_ most senior man in the place, and Sakumo couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for her.

‘That’s one way to break the ice,’ he said weakly, wiping the sweat of his forehead. ‘I suppose I should be grateful.’

‘Is she someone special, Hatake?’ Orochimaru asked, coming up behind him. He watched as Kiyoko bowed about a hundred times to Hiruzen, waving her hands in an erratic apology.

Sakumo went slightly pink, biting his lip. ‘Ah, early days still, Orochimaru, early days. I met her on a mission – I was escorting an important official from the Land of Eddies to the Village, and we stopped off in her inn. She was really kind. Patched up my injuries and everything. Sort of blew me away, really, her willingness to welcome strange Shinobi into her establishment and treat us so well.’

‘She seems pleasant,’ Orochimaru concluded, not really knowing what to say. Would it be inappropriate to comment on her looks? Isn’t that what guys did, when they had small-talk? _If I was in Jiraiya’s shoes and I commented on her beauty, I’d probably get a smack from Tsunade. Better not._

‘She is,’ Sakumo said thoughtfully, gazing at her. ‘She really, really is.’

The party was in full swing. To everyone’s surprise, Jiraiya’s kunai game was a hit – although the kids complained it was ‘unfair’ that Hiruzen was allowed to participate and was currently dominating the leader board.

‘Kenji, your stance is all wrong!’ Orochimaru called from the side lines, shaking his head in disappointment when Kenji epically missed the targets.

‘Lighten up, Oro,’ Jiraiya said cheerfully, patting a dejected Kenji on the back. ‘It’s meant to be a party! Besides, aren’t you meant to be keeping an eye the sake to make sure Sarutobi-sensei doesn’t get blackout drunk?’

‘It’s not him I’m worried about,’ Orochimaru murmured, pointing with his thumb to where Mito, of all people, was swaying slightly in her seat and giggling.

‘Well, I’ll be,’ Jiraiya snorted. ‘Never took Mito as the sort.’

‘Can you blame her?’ Orochimaru said. ‘Considering she was up to her elbows in food these last 2 days, I’d say she deserves a break.’

‘That’s true. The cake really is a masterpiece, wouldn’t you say, eh, Nawaki?’ Jiraiya said, turning to the small boy. He didn’t hear him; his tongue was sticking out in concentration, eyes narrowed, busy framing his body in the direction of the targets.

‘See, Kenji, _that’s_ what I’m looking for,’ Orochimaru said triumphantly. ‘Glad to see one of my students was paying attention.’

‘Leave the poor kid alone!’ Jiraiya said, shoving him playfully. Orochimaru, caught off guard, stumbled into an unsuspecting Benjiro, who had been spectating. Poor Benjiro, even more guard off guard that Orochimaru, sloshed his drink down his shirt.

‘Aw, nuts,’ Benjiro said solemnly. ‘That was some of the best sake I’ve ever had.’

‘Come to think of it, it does smell quite nice,’ Jiraiya said thoughtfully, as Orochimaru searched frantically in his pockets for a hankie of sorts in an attempt to dab away some of the damage. ‘It’s kind of, I dunno, sweet. Much nicer than the stuff you usually drink.’

‘Well, if I heard correctly, this is from the Hokage’s own personally supply,’ Benjiro said, fending off Orochimaru’s panicked politeness. ‘So, I’m not surprised it’s the good stuff. But don’t go getting ideas, Jiraiya – you’re only 16. If you so much as sniff at this stuff again, you and I will be having words.’

‘Come on, Pa!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘It’s a party! We’re meant to have fun, aren’t we?’

‘ _Nawaki_ and his friends are meant to have fun,’ Benjiro corrected sternly. ‘We’re here to supervise.’

‘And enjoy the spoils of being the Hokage, I suppose,’ Orochimaru said, raising his eyebrows at Benjiro’s empty cup.

‘Not if you’re underage,’ Benjiro huffed. He thrust his nose in the air and sauntered off back to Mito’s table (since she had managed to acquire most of the bottles), and sat down squarely in his seat with an indignant air about him. Jiraiya let out a snort.

‘Sheesh. One good drink and he’s all high and mighty,’ he smirked.

‘Makes one wonder what would happen if Tsunade drank it,’ Orochimaru said.

‘She’d probably never come down off her high horse.’

‘She would probably would get a whole herd of them.’

‘Is a group of horses called a herd?’

‘This conversation is getting stupid.’

Jiraiya smiled, before a lightbulb appeared to flicker above his head. ‘Say, you wanna do something fun?’

‘What fun could possibly be had at a 12th birthday party supervised by your father, Tsunade’s Grandmother, and our Sensei?’ Orochimaru said sceptically.

‘I think you can cross Mito off the list,’ Jiraiya chuckled, watching as Mito tried to slump her forehead in her hand, missed, and thumped it on the table instead. ‘And it may or may not have something to do with dancing, sake, and underage drinking.’

Orochimaru groaned and put his face in his hands. ‘For goodness sake. I knew you were an idiot, Jiraiya, but this has to take the cake.’

‘We’re not taking the cake anywhere,’ Jiraiya said, confused at the turn of phrase. ‘But we _are_ going to have to get everyone distracted if we’re gonna swipe a bottle of the stuff that’s made Mito so merry.’

‘What makes you think I want to?’ Orochimaru said.

‘Oh, come on, Oro,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Haven’t you ever been interested in finding out what’s so great about alcohol?’

‘Not once,’ Orochimaru shrugged.

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. ‘Why am I not surprised? Don’t worry, though. I’m sure Tsunade will make a great drinking buddy.’

‘That’s _if_ she agrees,’ Orochimaru mumbled, feeling slightly put out that Jiraiya had so quickly rebuffed him and chosen Tsunade instead. _Nothing new, then._

To the boy’s joint surprise, Tsunade was actually up for their shenanigans. Orochimaru thought she would have given Jiraiya an earful about it being Nawaki’s party, and them stealing alcohol would likely put a dampener on the mood, but she was more than happy to partake.

‘What?’ she shrugged, when they both stared at her in surprise. ‘I’m not _that_ much of a kill-joy, you know.’

‘Could’ve fooled me,’ Jiraiya winked.

Had Tsunade not been so anxious about causing him harm, Orochimaru would have betted all the sake on the roof that she’d have hit him.

The plan was in place. It was a stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. Looking back, Orochimaru would have cited their eagerness to swipe a bottle of forbidden sake as a desperate attempt to feel… _normal._ An attempt to make things fun, light-hearted, and easy. Like they had been when they were younger. Sometimes, Orochimaru wandered what his younger self would have thought of him; would he have been ashamed of the sort of person he had become? Or would he be proud that he was able to hold onto his friends? Even glad that he was still able to exercise some restraint against his victims, thanks to the influence of his teammates? Whatever the answer was, Orochimaru was sure that his younger self would have been sad for him, even just a little. The days had become bleaker since Komako’s passing, and their friendship was fraying. He would say, if asked, that the crackpot mission to get tipsy was just another way of grasping at something slipping from his grip.

In any case, the stupid plan was very simple. Dancing had already been on Tsunade’s agenda (although it seemed more like a stringent battle plan), and, while she and Jiraiya had the more eagle-eyed guests distracted – namely Benjiro and Hiruzen – Orochimaru, the sneaky so and so that he was, would grab a bottle from the crate. A perfectly innocent plan. Full of holes. Probably would never work under any other circumstance. But the adults were getting drunk, the kids were having too much fun with the revered bubble machine, and the future Sannin might just have been onto something. Sort of.

Jiraiya hit the music, which warbled from a crackling radio speaker, and hardly needed to encourage anyone to grab a partner before everyone was gleefully abandoning their activities and sweeping into the middle of the roof. In fact, everyone was _so_ eager, Jiraiya didn’t even have time to grab Tsunade before someone else was already there.

‘Grandmother, you’re pretty drunk,’ Tsunade snorted, as Mito collapsed against her granddaughter with a slurred ‘let’s dance, Tsuna dear!’.

‘Nonsense,’ Mito said dismissively, as the guests swarmed the designated dancing area (hooray for Tsunade’s scrupulous layout plans!). ‘I’m completely aware of myself, Tsuna.’

‘Is that why you can barely stand up right?’ Tsunade laughed, turning Mito around gently.

‘I can’t stand up because you keep spinning me!’ Mito said reproachfully, strands of her red hair escaping her twin buns. ‘Goodness, did we never teach you how to _dance_?’

‘Mother tried once or twice,’ Tsunade said, grinning at the memory. ‘But she said I had the grace of a baby elephant with two left feet.’

‘Surely it would be four, if you _were_ in fact an elephant?’ Mito said, spending far too much time thinking about it with a frown.

‘Believe it or not, that’s what I said!’

Meanwhile, Jiraiya was doing the jig with Hiruzen, keeping one eye on his Sensei and one eye on Orochimaru, who was surreptitiously slipping through the dancing pairs to the sake.

‘I haven’t danced since my wedding!’ Hiruzen exclaimed, grabbing Jiraiya’s wrists and spinning him around at breakneck speed. Sake apparently had a rigorous impact on the Third Hokage.

‘Shouldn’t you be dancing with the woman you married, then?’ Jiraiya complained, glancing over to where Biwako was cheerfully dancing away with Benjiro.

‘She can dance with me any time,’ Hiruzen said. ‘Besides, isn’t it nice to have a catch-up, my dear boy? We haven’t spoken about your progress in a long while!’

‘At a party?’ Jiraiya groaned. ‘Don’t be a bore, Sensei. You want Nawaki’s friends to think they’ve accidentally been tricked into attending a debrief?’

‘They could do with a debrief, to be honest,’ Hiruzen said sternly. ‘Orochimaru is working wonders with them, but I’m still not happy with their progress. I’m a little worried about their mission tomorrow, to be honest, even with young Orochimaru in charge. I wonder if the Academy might have been too soft of them’

‘Please,’ Jiraiya said, grimacing, ‘any more talk like that and you’ll turn into that creep Danzo.’

‘You can’t talk about my advisor like that, Jiraiya,’ Hiruzen said, but his eyes betrayed his amusement at his comment. ‘At any rate, how are you finding it?’

‘Finding what?’ Jiraiya mumbled, ducking under Hiruzen’s arm and spinning around. ‘Dancing with my ancient Sensei?’

‘I am not ancient!’ Hiruzen gasped. ‘I’m still in my thirties!’

‘Yeah, but you smoke a pipe like an old man and you dance like one, too,’ Jiraiya smirked, purposefully winding him up. It wasn’t often he got to joke around with his sensei like he used to. When Hiruzen was behind the desk, he was the Hokage – and he demanded respect.

‘The pipe is an unfortunate addition, I admit,’ Hiruzen said. ‘But I need some sort of outlet. In any case, I was asking about how you’re finding life as a Jonin! It’s been, what, 4 months since you were promoted?’

‘And I’ve loved every minute,’ Jiraiya grinned.

Hiruzen raised his eyebrows, twirling delicately on the spot as the music commanded. ‘Even the paperwork?’

‘Let’s not go _that_ far.’

Orochimaru, meanwhile, was in spitting distance of the crate, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked around and found Sakumo raising his eyebrows at him.

‘You won’t get away with it, you know,’ Sakumo said sternly.

‘W-with what?’ Orochimaru squeaked.

Sakumo fixed him with a seedy glare, before his face broke into a smile. ‘Not dancing, of course! Come, Orochimaru – Kiyoko is taking a breather, and it’s you or that snot-nosed kid over there.’ Sakumo flicked his head to indicate where poor Kenji was standing anxiously by the buffet table, watching Atsuko and Nawaki dance wildly together, all flailing limbs and frenzied feet tapping.

Trying to catch Jiraiya or Tsunade’s eye for help, Orochimaru was half pulled, half dragged onto the makeshift dancefloor.

‘Good party, eh?’ Sakumo grinned, putting his hands on Orochimaru’s shoulders and forcing the poor boy to sway awkwardly from side to side.

‘I suppose,’ Orochimaru said, wishing the ground would swallow him up. ‘Though I can’t say I’ve been to many.’

‘I’ll contain my amazement, kid,’ Sakumo smirked. ‘Kiyoko thinks it’s one of the best she’s ever been to, but she’s not really used to a big place like this.’

‘She’s from the outskirts?’ Orochimaru said, wishing the tempo would slow down.

‘Yeah,’ Sakumo nodded. ‘Owns a chain of inns. Tsunade has already swooped in and tried to get some business secured with the Hokage, but Kiyoko is far too apologetic to confirm anything now.’

‘Yes, I thought she was…nice, I suppose, earlier on,’ Orochimaru said lamely, noticing her sticking a strawberry into the chocolate fountain with glee.

‘She is,’ Sakumo said, watching her fondly. ‘But don’t let her apparent humbleness fool you. She’s usually a lot bolder and more talkative than this – she cracks me up, she does. Truly. Always has something witty to say, and I never lose interest when I’m talking to her. Honestly, she’s –’ Sakumo cut himself short, blushing slightly. ‘Sorry, kid. Forgive my rambling.’

‘Not at all,’ Orochimaru said hastily, praising the short respite as the old song came to an end. ‘It must be nice, to be in love.’

‘I – I wouldn’t call it _love_ ,’ Sakumo spluttered, completely losing his cool. ‘I’ve only known her for a half a year, and we’ve been…seeing each other, I suppose the word is, even less.’

‘I’m no expert in love,’ Orochimaru said, ‘but I can read it when I see it.’ He said the last part rather bitterly when he noticed that, with the song change, the partners had, too. Biwako and Hiruzen were back together, laughing like a couple of school children, Mito and Benjiro were jovially swinging arm in arm, and Jiraiya was gingerly trying to find the correct hand placement on Tsunade’s waist so as not to trigger her temper. He swallowed thickly at them. _Push him away. Call him a pig-headed pervert like you always do._

But Tsunade didn’t do that. With slight hesitation, given her reluctance to touch him of late, Tsunade put her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him. Jiraiya practically swooned. He tried to pull her closer, but Orochimaru saw her mutter something to him, and he backed off. They moved together, giggling after a moment, and Jiraiya twirled her under his arm with a flourish. Orochimaru looked away.

‘I’m not that bad of a dance partner, am I?’ Sakumo said, noticing Orochimaru’s thunderous expression.

‘No. I just…need to get something,’ Orochimaru muttered.

‘If you’re talking about the sake you’ve been creeping towards all afternoon, you know I’m obliged to stop you,’ Sakumo said, a knowing smile on his face.

Orochimaru froze. ‘Would you?’

Sakumo hummed in thought, drumming his fingers against his chin. ‘You know what…just this once, I’ll turn a blind eye. But you owe me, kid. Got it?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Orochimaru said, mock saluting. Sakumo gave him a goofy thumbs up, before returning to Kiyoko and sweeping her up in his arms.

*

‘I’m not feeling it,’ Jiraiya admitted, his tone full of disappointment. He had just downed the last drop of stolen sake from the bottle, and was slumped against one of the pillars with Orochimaru and Tsunade. The other two, however, were feeling it. Tsunade was sat cross-legged on the floor and giggling slightly, while Orochimaru was observing a fly with such an intense death stare, it was a wonder the little critter was still alive.

The sun was going down, and it was getting cooler. Nawaki and his friends were slumped somewhere near the chocolate fountain, their faces sticky with food and stomachs full of Mito’s homemade cake. Speaking of Mito, the elderly woman had fallen asleep and was snoozing peacefully, propped up against Benjiro’s shoulder. In his good manners, Benjiro refused to move an inch, lest he wake her up. Hiruzen and Biwako were nursing two glasses of wine (so much for Biwako’s previous assertion that alcohol ‘impacted performance’) and looking a bit groggy. Sakumo and Kiyoko were sat at a table in the corner, their hands intertwined, talking lightly to each other. A sort of hush had settled over the place – despite the sounds of Konoha preparing for its night’s rest, nothing could be heard but the rustle of the wind, the churning of the chocolate fountain, and the odd snippet of calm, easy conversation. It certainly made it easier to drink when underage, at any rate.

‘Probably cus’ you’re bigger than us,’ Tsunade said, her face flushed from the alcohol. ‘Say, Jiraiya, how tall _are_ you now, hm? I remember when you were a little – a little squirt.’

‘Last time Pa measured me against the door, I was 6ft exactly,’ Jiraiya said smugly, puffing out his chest.

‘And still growing,’ Orochimaru said, his eyes still glued on the fly. ‘You’ve grown several centimetres this month alone.’

Jiraiya looked at him strangely. ‘How’d you figure that?’

‘I have to look up at you more and more.’

Jiraiya threw back his head and let out a laugh. ‘Sheesh, Oro. You, looking up to me? Wonders will never cease.’

‘He’s always looked up to you, you big idiot,’ Tsunade said, jabbing his knee with her elbow. ‘Even when you were an annoying piece of crap, he still admired you. I mean, you’re still an annoying piece of shit, but you get the picture.’

‘Which is it, Tsu? Crap or shit?’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘Both. You’re a big dump.’

Jiraiya burst out laughing, unable to help himself. He settled on the floor and leant his head back against the pillar, the cool metal of the railing sinking through his shirt. ‘Aren’t you the charmer, eh?’

As Tsunade started blowing raspberries at him, Orochimaru, who was still self-aware enough to feel embarrassment, sunk to the floor between them and felt his face burn. Who did Tsunade think she was, saying such things? He did not need Jiraiya knowing what he thought of him, especially since what he thought was becoming more intense each day.

‘You are such a child,’ Jiraiya said, as Tsunade finished off her symphony of blowing raspberries by sticking out her tongue. ‘It’s no wonder you’re still single. How will your precious estate cope, if you miss your window and remain a spinster?’

‘Now, now, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru warned, hiccupping slightly. ‘You two have – have only just made up. I don’t you start fighting again.’

‘I wouldn’t waste time on fighting him,’ Tsunade declared. ‘Especially since what he is saying is s-t-u-i-p-d, like him.’

‘You spelt stupid wrong,’ Jiraiya snorted.

‘I know you are, but what am I?’

‘Bloody hell, Tsu,’ Jiraiya laughed. ‘How much did you _drink_?’

Tsunade glared at him, drawing her knees up to her chest. ‘I dunno. I probably just – I dunno, I probably just don’t soak it up as much, like you do.’

‘Which is surprising, given the size of your -’

Jiraiya couldn’t finish his sentence before he felt a cold, clammy hand clasp over his mouth. Orochimaru, having abandoned his focus on the unsuspecting fly, had reached over and stopped him before he could carry on with his lewd insinuations. Sober Tsunade was lethal enough – he had no idea how a tipsy version would react.

It was then Orochimaru realised how close his face was to Jiraiya’s. He was near enough that he could count each eyelash, and noticed how the ends of his eyebrows stuck up slightly at weird angles. He could see the small mole on the side of his nose, and the rich redness of the streaks running from his eyes. Jiraiya stared at him, before Orochimaru jerked away and dropped his hand like someone had slapped him.

‘S-sorry,’ Orochimaru stuttered, his face a beacon.

If he was feeling awkward, Jiraiya didn’t show it. He merely smiled, and clapped Orochimaru on the back. ‘Nah, it was a nice save. But I dunno if she’s even listening, do you?’

The two boys glanced at Tsunade, who was gazing with a happy expression on her face at the surrounding area. They would both agree that it was nice, to see her display her joy so willingly on her face, even if it was in part due to the alcohol. She let out a long sigh, hiccupping at the end, and leant back against the railing between them. Beaming, she looked from Orochimaru to Jiraiya, and said something that caught the both of them totally off guard. 

‘You know, you two,’ she said breathlessly, her eyes bright, ‘I love you.’

Jiraiya’s brain seemed to short-circuit and Orochimaru expelled a sort of choked stuttering sound that would lead an onlooker to conclude he was choking on a taco sausage.

‘Have I never said it out loud before?’ Tsunade said curiously, blinking at the pair of them in surprise. There was no semblance of embarrassment from her, as there would likely be should she admit it sober - only honesty, vulnerability, and truth.

Orochimaru, who recovered a lot faster than Jiraiya, cleared his throat. ‘No, Tsunade. You haven’t.’

‘Huh,’ she said thoughtfully, slumping back to rest her cheek against his shoulder. ‘Sorry about that, I guess. But I mean it, you know? You’ve both been…well, I don’t think I would have gotten through these past few months without you. That probably says it all.’

Orochimaru looked down at her as she leaned into him, her arm twisting round to intertwin with his. He was certain Jiraiya was just about dying with jealousy from such affectionate touch, but was more certain that any extra contact after they danced might have officially stopped his heart. He smiled at her fondly, at the blush dusting her cheeks and her long eyelashes fluttering sleepily. He understood where she was coming from. The three of them had been to hell and back, and, unbeknownst to them at the time, would do so many, many times again. They had grown up together, trained together, worked together, and spent precious lazy days together. It was easy to become close when circumstance ties you together. But Orochimaru thought, just for a moment, that it was something more than that. He was certain that, in all his frayed capacity to understand love, that he loved her back. Both of them.

‘Well, jeez, Tsu, say it like you mean it,’ Jiraiya said at last, his voice soft.

Tsunade laughed quietly, a far-cry from her usual rowdiness, and tightened her grip around Orochimaru’s arm.

‘You’re going to crack jokes at a time like this?’ Tsunade said. Orochimaru could tell from her tone that she was smiling.

‘What can I say? I’m reliable,’ Jiraiya replied. He eased closer to Orochimaru, their shoulders rubbing. ‘You can bet on that, Tsu – even on my deathbed, I’ll probably say something hilarious.’

‘It won’t be anything profound, at any rate,’ Tsunade said, her voice slightly muffled from being pressed to Orochimaru’s shoulder.

‘And I really don’t think Tsunade should be betting on anything, given her track record,’ Orochimaru said, chuckling softly himself.

‘Especially where my death is concerned,’ Jiraiya grinned.

‘Oh, shut _up_ , you two,’ Tsunade pouted. ‘I don’t wanna talk about depressing stuff. Not on a night like this.’

‘A night like what?’ Jiraiya asked. ‘One where we’ll a bit woozy?’

‘No,’ Tsunade said, her tone in a place Orochimaru could only describe as fragile. ‘A night like _this_. A night where we’re all together, and everything is fine, and we’re…happy. It’s magical, isn’t? Don’t you think so?’

Orochimaru didn’t know what to say to that. He turned to Jiraiya, whose head was tilted back to gaze at the stars, and felt warmth in his face. The fairy lights weaving around the pillars caught against his dark eyes and they twinkled with a delicate brightness. Without really thinking of the implications, slowly, cautiously, and perhaps egged on the by the sake, Orochimaru carefully rested his head against Jiraiya’s shoulder. He was warm, even through his clothes, and Orochimaru sighed into him, feeling more secure than he had in a long time. Tsunade was to his left, her cheek on his shoulder and her arm wrapped around his, and Jiraiya was to his right, his eyes contemplating the sky contently.

‘Yes, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru whispered. ‘I think it’s pretty magical.’

*

‘Why isn’t Grandmother making breakfast?’ Nawaki frowned the next morning, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was sticking up like he’d been licked by some sort of farm animal, and his too-big pyjamas trailed behind him on the floor.

‘Grandmother had a heavy night,’ Tsunade smirked, standing by the stove. Though, in truth, she was feeling a little groggy herself. ‘I think we should let her sleep it off, don’t you?’

‘But you can’t cook,’ Nawaki pouted, sitting at the table.

Tsunade gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. ‘You wound me so!’

‘Stop being so dramatic,’ Nawaki complained. ‘It’s the truth, big sis. Remember when you tried to make Mother a grand lunch on her wedding anniversary with Father? You nearly burned the Mansion down.’

Tsunade glared at him, before consulting Mito’s cookery book with a small frown.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?’ Nawaki grinned, unable to suppress his laughter.

‘Nawaki, I’m a highly-ranked Chuunin,’ Tsunade said sternly. ‘I’m sure I can handle a little pancake batter.’

It turned out that Tsunade, in fact, could not handle a little pancake batter. She ended up making a strange sort of gloop that separated into two layers – one could essentially be described as eggy water, and the other was a jelly-like mixture between butter and the odd splodge of flour. She burnt them all, badly, and served them gingerly to a very nervous Nawaki. But she looked so proud of what she had produced that poor Nawaki really didn’t have the heart to tell her they looked like she’d fished them out of a bin.

‘Erm,’ he gulped, poking one with the tip of his finger, ‘t-thanks, Tsu. They really look…well, they’re something else, that’s for sure.’

He made a grab for the syrup and practically drowned the inedible mess in a puddle of the sugary sauce in the hopes it might redeem the taste.

‘Not so much sugar, Nawaki,’ Tsunade said.

‘I need the energy!’ Nawaki said. ‘Orochimaru-sensei said our mission today is gonna take us right near the border with the Land of Earth, so it’s one heck of a journey. If I’m gonna last, I’ll need to fill up! Which is why I hoped Grandmother would be making breakfast.’ He said the last part under his breath, but Tsunade’s ears pricked up.

‘What was that?’ she muttered.

‘Nothing, nothing!’ Nawaki said, hastily taking a large bite. ‘D-delicious!’

Looking slightly green, brave little Nawaki ploughed through the ‘pancakes’ at a noble and steady rate, absolutely determined not to hurt Tsunade’s feelings after the effort she had put in. Eyes watering, he pressed his fist to his mouth as he soldiered on through the floury, sticky consistency Tsunade had somehow managed produce even _with_ a recipe, and thanked his lucky stars that she wasn’t usually in charge on their meals.

‘Nice?’ Tsunade asked, helping herself to an apple.

Gasping for breath, Nawaki gulped down several mouthfuls of milk, shuddering slightly as something hard and definitely not pancake-like slithered down his throat. ‘Mmmm, yeah! Real nice! The best pancakes I’ve ever eaten for sure! How come you’re not having any?’

‘I don’t need a big breakfast,’ Tsunade smiled, crunching the apple.

‘You…you mean that entire stack is for me?’ Nawaki said weakly.

‘It sure is!’ Tsunade beamed.

Sweating slightly, Nawaki forced a smile. ‘Well, it’s a good thing I’m hungry!’

After they washed up, and after Nawaki had recovered some of his normal colour, Tsunade gasped suddenly.

‘I forgot!’ she exclaimed.

‘Forgot what?’ Nawaki grumbled, rubbing his stomach. _Hopefully Orochimaru-sensei won’t be too harsh if I throw up on the journey._

‘Just – just stay right there, okay?’ Tsunade said, before scampering off to her room.

Nawaki couldn’t help but smile after her. He loved his sister dearly. He knew she had taken the brunt of their father’s moods, and put too much pressure on herself as the carrier of the Senju name, all to make his life a little easier. Sometimes, when he thought about his mother, Tsunade’s face would spring to mind. Even before she had died, Nawaki looked to Tsunade as his mentor, his protector, and his best friend. He knew she was going above and beyond to help fill the void Komako had left behind, and he was very grateful for her. When he cried at night, missing Komako so much he thought his heart might break, Tsunade was the one who would hold him and comfort him. When he hurt himself training, Tsunade was the one patching him up and reprimanding him for being too reckless. And when he thought he’d have the worst birthday of his life, since both of their parents weren’t there, she had managed to give him one of the best.

‘I’m pretty lucky,’ Nawaki whispered to himself. ‘Even if she can’t cook.’

When Tsunade reappeared, she was holding a present behind her back. ‘Come up to the roof with me, kiddo.’

‘Huh?’ Nawaki said. ‘Don’t tell me we’re gonna have to clean up from the party? I need to go really soon, or Orochimaru-sensei will get mad!’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort that out,’ Tsunade smiled. ‘Just go on up, alright? I have something I want to give you.’

Frowning in confusion, Nawaki did as she asked. He ran through the house, through the front door, across their small courtyard, and down the side of the Mansion until he reached the stairs.

‘Not so fast!’ Tsunade called, still recovering from the slight hang-over tingling against her temple.

‘No time to waste, big sis!’ Nawaki giggled. ‘Have you _seen_ Orochimaru-sensei mad? He’s the scariest guy ever!’

_That, I believe,_ Tsunade thought to herself, remembering with a wince when he had so vehemently defended her and Jiraiya against Fumihiro, all those years ago.

When they reached the roof, Tsunade sighed as she looked around at the mess from the party, but shook it off. She had more important matters to attend to – mainly the fact that she’d forgotten, in the excitement and stress of yesterday, to actually give Nawaki his gift. Smiling, she walked over to where he was stood. He had planted both of his hands on the railing and was grinning down at the Village as if he was already Hokage.

‘So?’ he said, turning to her. ‘Why’d you drag me up here for?’

‘What, you don’t like the view?’ Tsunade winked.

‘Of course I do!’ Nawaki cried, stating the obvious. ‘You can see the whole Village from up here! It reminds me of everything I’ve gotta protect when I become Hokage, you know?’

Pride bloomed in Tsunade’s chest, and she bit her lip. In the right light, standing on the roof, Nawaki looked exactly like Hashirama. Smiling at him, she ruffled his hair.

‘I know, kiddo, I know,’ she said gently. ‘Now, I wanted to give you your birthday present before you go off on this mission with Oro, okay?’

‘You don’t _have_ to get me a present, you know,’ Nawaki pouted. ‘I’m not a little kid anymore.’

‘Oh, but you didn’t mind me throwing you a ginormous party?’ Tsunade said, quirking an eyebrow at him. ‘Besides, you _are_ still a kid, Nawaki, no matter how you paint it. So, if you get into danger, you run away, alright?’

‘You can’t tell a man to run!’ Nawaki protested. ‘Especially not a man like me!’

‘Oh? And why is that, oh great and manly one?’

Nawaki turned back to gaze over Konoha, a small, hopeful smile on his face. ‘Because I’m the man who is going to surpass everyone and become Hokage. That’s my dream. I’ll be even cooler than Grandpa, you wait and see!’

‘Nawaki…’ Tsunade murmured, astounded at his integrity at such a young age. Despite everything, he was still fool-hardy, optimistic, and full of hope. He could have turned against the Village, angry for what it made of their father and how it lost them their mother. He could have dispelled the Senju name, thinking it too much pressure, and take things at his own pace. He could have broken down. He had every right to. But, instead, Nawaki had put on a brave face, patched up his wounds, and declared the biggest dream of all to the morning sunrise. _Hokage. That’s my dream._

‘Well,’ Tsunade continued, pulling herself together, ‘if you’re going to be even cooler than Grandfather, you’ll need to look the part. Go ahead and open your present.’

Still looking a little affronted that she’d dare bestow a present on him, the mature man that he was, Nawaki took the gift and eyed it.

‘You definitely didn’t wrap this,’ he giggled. ‘It’s way too neat!’

‘Just shut up and open it or I won’t give it to you at all,’ Tsunade said sternly, making a mental note to thank Orochimaru for his wrapping skills.

Nawaki tore off the well-wrapped paper and let it fall to the ground. His mouth opened slightly in awe, he clicked open the small box, and saw the Hokage’s necklace gleaming against a sapphire cushion. Tsunade had polished it and replace the fraying thread of lace, and while she felt the absence of it around her own neck, she was more than happy to give it to her brother. She wouldn’t miss it.

‘Big sis…is this…?’ Nawaki trailed off, holding up the crystal to the light.

‘It’s our Grandfather’s necklace,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘I figured you should have it. I know how much you want it, and it makes sense, what with your dream and all.’

Nawaki threw the box on the floor, clutching the necklace in his fist, and grabbed Tsunade in a bone-breaking hug.

‘I love you!’ he cried, squeezing her like his life depended on it. Laughing at his adorable reaction, Tsunade hugged him back. Like it was the last time she ever could.

‘I promise, I’ll take good care of it!’ Nawaki said, pulling away and securing it around his neck. ‘And not just this, though – the whole Village was Grandpa’s treasure, and I’m going to protect it no matter what!’

‘You know,’ Tsunade said, ‘a man never goes back on his word.’

‘And you can bet anything that I sure won’t!’ Nawaki beamed, clasping the crystal in his palm and squeezing it tightly. ‘Seriously, sis, this is…it’s the best present _ever_!’

Tsunade grinned at him. She didn’t know what she was more moved about – the fact he was so overjoyed, or the fact that she truly believed him. In that moment, when she felt the sun warm her face as it rose above the clouds, the necklace gleaming around Nawaki’s neck, she swore she believed he would do it. That he would become the Hokage.

‘Say, Nawaki,’ she said, her voice softer. ‘I have one more gift I want to give you. Take off your headband, will you?’

‘Huh?’ Nawaki said. ‘But it’s my prized possession! Well, I mean, it _was_ , I guess, but now I’ve got the necklace, I suppose it’s sort of my second prized possession, but either way -’

‘ – just take it off!’ Tsunade laughed, shaking her head.

Uncertainly, Nawaki removed his precious forehead protector, his light brown hair falling over his forehead. _He looks younger without that on,_ Tsunade thought. _Still just a little kid after all._

‘This is a special charm to make your dreams come true, Nawaki,’ she said softly. Slowly, carefully, she knelt lower and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. When she pulled away, Nawaki blinked at her, before he beamed the biggest smile she’d ever seen him muster. She smiled back, and she meant it. She really meant it. And when he turned away to race down the stairs again, frantically proclaiming _I’m gonna be so late!_ she didn’t think twice about letting him go without a second hug. She didn’t think twice about telling him to be vigilant, and to listen to Orochimaru, and to say _I love you_ back to him. She didn’t need to think twice. Because he was just a child, carrying a bold dream, and safely under the protection of one of her dearest friends. There was nothing to think twice about. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far, and I'm pretty proud of it (for once!). There was a lot to balance - setting up the backdrop for the war, incorporating the canon details about Tsunade giving Nawaki the necklace, AND including some well-earned wholesomeness - but I really hope I've done it justice.   
> You guys have all been so nice about my work, and you know, it really makes me happy - so I hope this chapter makes you happy. If it makes you smile or laugh even once, then I'll feel like my work is done!  
> I will say, though, next chapter is obviously going to be sad because we know what's coming (someone give Tsunade and Orochimaru a hug, quick!), but I am looking forward to writing it, in a weird way. It will also be the LAST chapter in 'The Jonin Promotion Arc'. Then, I'll be taking a 2 week break to organise the third Arc, 'The Second Shinobi War', because there's a lot to cover - the war itself, securing the summonings, Dan and Tsunade's relationship, the Ame Orphans, Hanzo, and so much more - so I need some time to get the time line right and wrap my head around it.   
> Anyway, I hope you guys stick with me. See you next week (or in the next 10 days, depending on my work levels) for some more content!  
> As always, happy reading, and take care xo


	24. Nawaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya tries to keep his head up, Tsunade's life changes for the worse, and Orochimaru begins to spiral.   
> *WARNING* For depictions of death.  
> (ALSO should you wish to get in touch with little old me regarding this fic, you can find me over as likes-to-art on Tumblr. I'm also on Instagram, which is in my bio - I'm an artist on the down low - so get in contact if you feel like it!)

Chapter 24 – Nawaki 

Date: 42 A.K (After Konoha)

‘Something smells horrendous,’ Jiraiya said, wrinkling his nose as he let himself into Tsunade’s home. He was referring, of course, to her attempt at making pancakes.

Tsunade glared at him. ‘Who said you could come in?’

‘Forgive me, but I thought there was a house fire, since the whole place smells like burning,’ Jiraiya said, heading into the kitchen where Tsunade was washing up. Gingerly, Jiraiya poked at the remains of the pancake batter, trying and failing to prise the wooden spoon from the bowl.

‘Did you have glue for breakfast, Tsunade?’ he grimaced, tugging at the spoon. It was well and truly welded to the bowl, and he worried for whomever had the unfortunate task of consuming the abomination.

‘Ha bloody ha,’ she said sarcastically. ‘It’s clearly pancake batter. I made Nawaki breakfast before his big mission to give Grandmother a break – she’s still sleeping like a log, actually. Think she had a bit too much sake last night.’

‘You two have something in common, then,’ Jiraiya smirked, finally freeing the spoon from the mixture and adding it to the pile of dirty dishes. ‘Don’t you remember professing your undying love for me and Oro last night?’

Tsunade went scarlet and she visibly bristled. ‘That – that never happened.’

Jiraiya laughed loudly and slapped her on the back. ‘Don’t deny it, Tsu! It was adorable! Very off-brand, I grant you, but nonetheless – oof!’

Jiraiya was cut off when Tsunade launched the wet sponge at his face to shut him up. ‘We shall never speak of this again,’ she hissed, as Jiraiya slopped the soapy water from his mouth, pulling a face, ‘or I’ll throw something harder at you.’

‘Message received,’ Jiraiya said weakly. ‘I suppose the cherished memory will only remain in the vast confines of my barren heart – ouch! Tsunade!’

True to her word, Tsunade threw the next thing she could get her hands on, which happened to be the tea towel. Though not a vicious weapon in its own right, she had balled it up in a tight knot and threw it with the force of a thousand suns. When it smacked into Jiraiya’s gut, it rather felt like a small and incredibly lethal rock.

‘I did warn you,’ Tsunade shrugged. ‘Now sit down and shut up, unless you want to help me with the drying up.’

‘I already came here to help clear up the party stuff,’ Jiraiya grumbled, sitting down at the kitchen table Nawaki had occupied less than an hour ago. ‘I’m not signing up to anything else.’

Tsunade’s face softened, but he didn’t see, since she had her back to him. ‘Suit yourself.’

‘That’s all I get?’ Jiraiya pouted. ‘Not even a thank you?’

‘I’ll reserve my gratitude until after the job is done.’

By the late morning, Mito _still_ hadn’t emerged from her drunken slumber, and the Mansion’s roof was almost back to normal. Wiping sweat from his upper lip with the collar of his shirt, Jiraiya dragged one of the numerous bin bags to the designated pile in the corner. He couldn’t quite understand how three teenagers, six adults, and a handful of twelve-year-olds managed to consume _quite_ so much food, but judging by all the rubbish, empty bottles, and crumpled paper plates, it was a hell of a lot. He glanced up and watched Tsunade lug the large tables to the side, and couldn’t help but admire her strength. Even if he had been on the receiving end of it.

‘That’s everything,’ Tsunade declared, dusting her hands together. ‘I’ll organise for the tables and chairs to get picked up, and I’ll return the chocolate fountain and the bubble machine to their respective shops.’

‘Can’t we at least keep the bubble machine?’ Jiraiya asked. ‘Oro will be heartbroken if this is the last time he can use it.’

‘They were for hire only,’ Tsunade said sternly. ‘But…well, at least we know he’s easily pleased.’

‘That’s for sure,’ Jiraiya chuckled, before he noticed something they hadn’t packed up. ‘Say, Tsunade, don’t forget about those fairy lights. I know they’re for outside use, but I can’t imagine Sarutobi-sensei would want us to leave them up like that.’

Tsunade followed his gaze and set her eyes on the pillars, where Jiraiya and Orochimaru had spent ages carefully decorating. She looked almost wistful, even though the party had been less than 24 hours ago.

‘I sort of want to leave them,’ she said quietly, her eyes drifting down to where the three of them had drunken slumped together the night before. Where she had told them that she loved them. It wasn’t a lie, of course. She truly _did_ love them – the idiots that they were – but feeling it in her heart and saying it out loud were two entirely different things. She wasn’t one for sharing her feelings, so, in a way, the fairy lights were a signifier of one of the rare moments she had allowed herself to be vulnerable.

‘Ah, I know what you mean,’ Jiraiya sighed, scratching his head. ‘Took Oro and I an age to get that sorted. Feels like a waste to take it down after all that.’

‘I appreciate it, you know,’ Tsunade said suddenly, as if the sight of the fairy lights had pushed her back to the night before, where her heart felt light and her words were easier to say.

Jiraiya looked at her curiously. ‘Oh?’

Tsunade fiddled her hands, not quite meeting his eye. ‘I…I appreciate all the work you and Orochimaru did to make the day special. I definitely couldn’t have pulled it off on my own, and I know how much Nawaki enjoyed it. It was…really good of you both.’

Caught off guard from her earnest expression, Jiraiya felt heat rise in his face. Tsunade was never one to praise him, least of all so genuinely, and he took a moment to react. When he did, he did what he did best – he made it light-hearted.

‘It was our pleasure, Tsu!’ he exclaimed, pinning her under his arms and giving her a one-armed hug. ‘But it does mean we’re gonna have to go even _bigger_ next year, especially since he’ll be a teenager!’

‘What do you propose?’ Tsunade said, finding herself not minding being wrapped up in Jiraiya’s embrace. _That’s different_.

‘Well, hold your hat, Tsu, cus’ this is gonna knock you off your feet,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘How about this: two bubble machines.’

Tsunade blinked at him, before letting out a long laugh. ‘Oh, Oro will have an absolute blast if we do that.’

‘Why’d you reckon he’s so fascinated with them, eh?’ Jiraiya chuckled.

‘Because he’s a big kid at heart,’ Tsunade smirked. ‘You know as well as I that he didn’t exactly have the best childhood. He probably wants to make up for it by being goofy on the down low.’

‘Same could be said for you, right?’ Jiraiya said, finally releasing her from his hug. He was surprised that she neglected to pull away – or even shove him away – as she so often did, but he had a sneaking suspicion that her walls were low since her confession.

‘I don’t act like a kid, thank you very much,’ Tsunade said, her nose in the air. ‘And…I didn’t have it nearly as rough as Oro, you know. Things were tricky with my Father, and I felt a lot of pressure, but compared to him, my childhood was perfectly glowing. He lost everything. Thinking about that makes me shudder.’

Jiraiya swallowed thickly. He couldn’t agree more. He would never forget the first time he went to Orochimaru’s house – the same day he showed him how to make omurice and henceforth began a culinary teaching course he never imagined he’d undertake – and he remembered how empty it had seemed. It was dark. The cushions weren’t sat in. The spare plates and cutlery were covered in dust, since Orochimaru only needed one set. There were few belongings, and the things that remained were untouched, like they had been frozen in time. If Orochimaru hadn’t been there, he would question whether anyone lived there at all. _How lonely he must have been after they died_ , he thought, biting his lip.

‘I can hardly imagine it,’ Tsunade whispered, as if she’d read his mind.

‘Me neither,’ Jiraiya swallowed. He had lost his mother even before his first birthday, so, while he felt her loss, he only ever knew his father. And Benjiro was as attentive and as doting as they could come. Jiraiya never wanted for anything, least of all love. He knew Tsunade was the same. The First and Second had adored her, as did her mother. She still had Nawaki and Mito. And the pair of them found it easier to make friends and forge bonds that Orochimaru. Genius though he was, he was not one for socialising or easy conversation. He and Tsunade hadn’t felt loneliness before. Orochimaru lived through it every day.

‘I do wonder sometimes,’ Tsunade said, her voice quiet, ‘what would have happened to him if he’d never plucked up the courage to speak to me that day.’

‘Which day was that?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘After Grandfather had died,’ Tsunade said. ‘The others were avoiding me more than usual, and he…well, he offered to share his lunch with me, of all things. He thought that food was something you gave to someone to make them feel better. Of course, back then, he packed his own lunches and they tasted awful, but that really…I dunno, built a bridge between us, I guess? I just wonder what would have happened if he didn’t do that. Do you reckon he’d still be lonely?’

Jiraiya shrugged. ‘Beats me. I know we became friends before we were put on the same team, but if you think about it, we were bound together _because_ we were put on the same team. It was inevitable.’

‘Yeah, but being on the same team doesn’t automatically mean you’re friends,’ Tsunade said. ‘I mean, look at the Inuzuka twins and Daichi Aburame – they can hardly stand to be in the same room as each other without wanting to tear each other to shreds.’

‘Huh,’ Jiraiya said thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it like that before.’

‘Either way, I’m grateful,’ Tsunade sighed. ‘Having Oro on our side, as our friends, has been a blessing. Even if he is a little weird.’

‘A little?’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘Tsu, the guy is a total freak. Doesn’t make me love him any less, though.’

Tsunade looked at him slyly, poking him in the side. ‘Oh, so it’s not just me professing my love to my friends now, is it?’

Jiraiya, who had gone red, took on an indignant expression and folded his arms. ‘There’s nothing wrong with declaring one’s affections for their best friends, no matter how flustered and angry you seem to get about it.’

‘Give over, you big oaf,’ Tsunade grinned. ‘Pretending to be all high and mighty doesn’t work on me.’

‘That’s surprising. I learnt the art of haughtiness from you, after all.’

‘We’re having a moment here,’ Tsunade warned. ‘Don’t push your luck.’

*

Orochimaru was exhausted. He and his students had left Konoha for their mission four days ago, and honestly, overseeing three rambunctious Genin was finally taking its toll. They had settled down for the night, just shy of the small country that bordered the Land of Fire, the Land of Earth, and the Land of Rain, and, thus far, hadn’t encountered any trouble. There was the odd Shinobi from Iwagakure, but Orochimaru had dispensed with them quickly enough. Atsuko, the young Uchiha girl, had pouted and said _she_ wanted to get some practise in, but Orochimaru was a wary teacher. As much as he wanted to pass on vital skills to his young students, he was also concerned for their safety. Besides, in his mind, there would be plenty to do once they reached their destination.

‘I’m freezing,’ Nawaki mumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest and shivering slightly. His necklace, which Orochimaru had instantly recognised after years of seeing it around Tsunade’s neck, glinted in the flames of the campfire he was sat close to.

‘We’ve already lit a fire, you big wimp,’ Atsuko said, punching his arm.

‘Atsuko, don’t start,’ Orochimaru said wearily. ‘There’s time enough for violence when we reach our client.’

‘As if,’ Atsuko said, rolling her eyes. ‘This is just a stupid C-rank mission. We’re not gonna run into any trouble that warrants proper violence.’

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ Kenji squeaked. The small boy was sat close to Orochimaru and seemed about ready to latch onto his arm like a limpet clinging to a rock. He was a nervous sort of fellow, and gravitated towards Orochimaru for comfort.

‘It _is_ a bad thing!’ Atsuko complained. ‘How am I meant to get on the same level as the rest of my clan if we never get to do anything, huh?’

‘The Third Hokage has assigned us missions appropriate to your current skill level,’ Orochimaru said, an edge to his voice. ‘We’ve had this conversation about a hundred times. Once you’re better equipped, you’ll receive more complex missions.’

‘Like the ones you get, Sensei?’ Nawaki said eagerly, his dark eyes alight with adoration. Orochimaru couldn’t help but smile. Even if he didn’t know Nawaki of old, he would likely have been his favourite just because the kid was so enthusiastic. He was a trier, the sort of person who would see everything through to the end. Much like someone else Orochimaru knew.

‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far,’ Orochimaru said, wincing slightly as he thought of all the blood he had spilt in Danzo’s name. ‘But, by all means, you will reach a level where you can handle more dangerous missions.’

‘How can we reach that level if all we ever get are boring errands and escort missions?’ Atsuko said.

‘All experience is good experience, no matter how small it may seem,’ Orochimaru said, remembering a very similar conversation Hiruzen frequented with a dissatisfied Jiraiya. If Kenji wasn’t such a wimp – _nothing_ like Orochimaru himself, thank you very much – he might have said his little team was almost identical to Hiruzen’s. Nawaki was more like Jiraiya than he was his own flesh and blood, and Atsuko’s bolshie attitude often reminded him of Tsunade’s. _Perhaps Kenji will blossom into someone like me,_ Orochimaru thought to himself. _Then it really would be like Team 7 all over again._

‘Well,’ Atsuko smirked, ‘if I get really bored with all this pointless running around, I could just go off on my own renegade mission like you did. Right, Sensei?’

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Atsuko, for the millionth time, _I_ did not decide to disobey orders. I was merely presented with a complicated situation and used my better judgement to decipher my next move. Renegade missions are not and never will be my style, so don’t get any ideas.’

‘Are you talking about when Princess Tsunade took off to fight an entire battalion of super duper strong enemy Shinobi because Lord Third bet that she couldn’t?’ Kenji gasped.

Orochimaru blinked at him. ‘That…that is not what happened.’ _Then again, I wouldn’t put it past Tsunade to do such a thing in the name of a bet._

‘Check your facts, Kenji,’ Atsuko said, rolling her eyes. ‘She left the Village cus’ she was in love with a Prince from the Land of Water and wanted to get married, but Lord Third forbid it.’

Orochimaru bit back a laugh. ‘That didn’t happen either. Where on earth do you two get your stories?’

‘Oh, all over the place!’ Kenji said. ‘My Granny heard from Mr. Wakatoshi at the bakery who heard from Old Lady Hina who heard from Mr. Obata who lives near the river who heard from -’

‘All right, all right,’ Orochimaru said, when Kenji finally paused for breath. ‘But none of that actually happened. Tsunade merely…’ he trailed off, noticing Nawaki’s dejected expression. He sighed to himself. It was tactless to discuss the circumstances surrounding Komako’s death in front of him, especially to the teammates who would undoubtedly use it as gossip. He shook his head and eyed Atsuko and Kenji sternly. ‘The point is, you should _never_ defy the Hokage’s orders _or_ leave the Village without permission when on duty. It matters not what occurred, but believe me when I say that all three of us were reprimanded for our actions. Despite your own frustrations, a good Shinobi heeds the word of their superiors.’

Clearly disappointed that they wouldn’t hear the story directly from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, Atsuko and Kenji slumped back against their sleeping mats.

‘Anyway,’ Orochimaru said, trying to change the subject, ‘we ought to use this time to discuss our plans for tomorrow. We’ll rise early, so we’ll have to -’

‘ – say, if it _was_ a Prince she ran off to meet, I bet he’s absolutely drop-dead gorgeous,’ Atsuko sighed, completely ignoring Orochimaru. ‘I mean, Princess Tsunade is like, _so_ pretty, so anyone dating her would have to match her looks.’

‘That’s not how it works at all, Atsuko,’ Kenji said a-matter-of-factly. ‘It’s all about personality. Even if that Prince was the most smashing-looking guy in the world, if he was a bore, it wouldn’t be worth it!’

_That was surprisingly wise, for him_ , Orochimaru thought.

‘Guys, there was no Prince,’ Nawaki said hotly, folding his arms. ‘Tsu wouldn’t go to such lengths for a boy, at any rate. That isn’t her style.’ 

‘Then what _is_ her style? Girls?’ Atsuko asked.

Nawaki shrugged. ‘Beats me. I’m starting to think she doesn’t have the capacity to even _like_ anyone, let alone love. You should see the way she treats Sensei and Jiraiya!’

Orochimaru chuckled to himself at Nawaki’s vexed expression, and was inclined to agree. His laughter was only interrupted by Kenji, who was making a small choking nose in his throat.

‘Huh?!’ Kenji squawked. ‘What – what is that supposed to mean?!’

‘What’s what mean?’ Nawaki said.

Kenji swallowed, his eyes wide. ‘The…the… _girls_ thing?’

Nawaki snorted as Atsuko let out a long-suffering groan, clearly resisting the urge to face-palm.

‘Whaddaya think, numbnuts?’ she scoffed. ‘Girls can like other girls the same way guys do. Same as guys liking guys. It’s just a fact.’

Kenji looked at her in utter disbelief. Orochimaru could almost see the cogs grinding in his little brain as he attempted to wrap his head around this apparently new-found phenomenon.

‘Oh, come on, genius,’ Atsuko scowled, rolling her eyes. ‘You’re like, what, nearly 13, and you don’t know about stuff like that?’

‘I – I know about guys and girls!’ Kenji exclaimed defensibly, going red. ‘But I…I never knew that…’ he trailed off, frowning like he was mentally solving some exceptionally complex mathematics.

‘Oh, brother,’ Atsuko groaned. ‘I’m surrounded by idiots.’

‘Hey!’ Nawaki exclaimed. ‘I’m not an idiot! _I_ already knew!’

‘What do you want, a medal?’ Atsuko said scathingly.

As Nawaki and Atsuko started to bicker (in a frighteningly similar manner to one Tsunade and Jiraiya), Orochimaru watched as Kenji puzzled out the concept of same-sex relationships. In all honesty, he wasn’t surprised at Kenji’s lack of knowledge. The only information young Shinobi received regarding such matters were a handful of exceptionally awkward talks at the Hospital, and they never touched on anything outside of the heteronormative bubble Konoha was engulfed in. He remembered the sessions very well – the cringe, Jiraiya’s inappropriate comments and the odd wolf-whistle, and the look of horror on Tsunade’s face when she discovered what the onset of puberty would bring for her every month. He was certain same-sex relationships were never once discussed. It wasn’t that Konoha treated such relations as taboo, but it wasn’t exactly welcomed, either. Orochimaru swallowed thickly. In a way, listening to Atsuko talk so openly with Nawaki and Kenji was comforting. Perhaps times _were_ changing, at least in the younger generation. Perhaps he could learn to accept his own changes, too.

‘Wait, wait,’ Kenji said, waving his hands in the air. ‘So, you’re saying that two guys can be in love? Like the way my parents are?’

‘Yeah,’ Atsuko said. ‘Same as girls.’

Kenji immediately turned to Orochimaru, looking confused. ‘Is she being serious, Sensei? I can never tell when she’s pulling my leg.’

‘Why would I lie about that?’ Atsuko snorted.

‘The same reason you lied about there being hidden treasure up the nostril of Grandpa’s stone head,’ Nawaki giggled.

‘I never fell for that,’ Kenji declared.

‘Then why’d you climb all the way up there?’ Nawaki grinned.

‘To answer your question, Kenji,’ Orochimaru said loudly, sensing another argument coming, ‘yes, it is entirely possible for men to love men, and for women to love women. In some cases, an individual can love both. And it’s absolutely fine to do so.’

Kenji sat back and crossed his legs, studying the fire. ‘So…it’s normal?’

Orochimaru paused, considering his next words. ‘It’s normal for those who feel it. While it less common than loving the opposite sex, there’s nothing at all wrong with falling in love with someone of the same sex - despite what people may say.’

‘What, people have, like, a problem with it?’ Kenji said.

Orochimaru sighed. ‘It has been known. But I find such people to be fools with no respect for their fellow human beings. They are bigoted, small-minded individuals with little understanding about love. You should pay them no attention.’

Atsuko eyed Orochimaru curiously. ‘It almost sounds like you’re talking from experience, Sensei.’

Alarmed, Orochimaru felt heat rise in his face. ‘I…I merely find it frustrating when people are discriminated against for such matters. One can’t choose who they love.’

‘That’s for sure,’ Nawaki mumbled. ‘I have no idea why Mother loved my Father so much.’

Orochimaru felt a pang for the boy. He knew from Tsunade’s experience that Taichi was not an easy man to have around, by any stretch of the imagination. It must have been baffling for Nawaki, seeing how one as kind and genuine as Komako could have fallen for such a man, but, as Orochimaru was beginning to understand, love is a complex and unpredictable beast.

‘Do _you_ love anyone, Sensei?’ Atsuko said, still looking at him intently.

Orochimaru swallowed. ‘I love two people very dearly. I can say that for certain.’

Atsuko’s eyes popped. ‘What, you mean _love_ love?’

‘There are different types of love, you know,’ Orochimaru said.

‘I know _that_ ,’ Atsuko said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (really, it is, but Orochimaru was no good at talking to pre-teens at the best of times). ‘I meant like, are you _in_ love with anyone? You’re so old. There’s gotta be someone.’

‘I’m only 16!’ Orochimaru spluttered.

‘What, for real?’ Kenji said. ‘I thought you were way older than that!’

‘Why on earth would you -’

‘ – cus’ you talk like an old man and use stupidly long words to make a point!’ Kenji interrupted. ‘Plus, you’re a freaking Jonin! You gotta be old to be a Jonin!’

‘Says who?’ Nawaki said. ‘Sensei’s teammate Jiraiya, you know, the goofy guy, is a Jonin, and he’s the same age. And my big sis is gonna be one soon for sure.’ He said the last part rather proudly, and Orochimaru smiled slightly. _It must be nice to have a sibling._

‘Yeah, but like, when I imagine a Jonin, I see someone about Lord Third’s age,’ Kenji said, framing a square with his hands as if he was capturing Hiruzen in a shot.

‘The Hokage isn’t that old either,’ Orochimaru said, thinking back to Biwako’s assertion at Nawaki’s party. ‘Your warped concept of old age is rather worrying, I must say. Anyone over the age of 30 must be positively ancient to you.’

‘Can you blame us?’ Atsuko said, her tone suddenly changing from care-free to heavy. ‘It’s rare to see an elderly person. Especially for me. Most of my Clan serve as Shinobi one way or the other. There’s not exactly a good life expectancy.’

The mood shifted immediately. Nawaki sucked in a breath, drawing his knees to his chest again and looking forlornly at the flames. Kenji took to staring at his fingernails, and Orochimaru, surprisingly, was at a loss for words. He tried to think of something wise to say, like Hiruzen would have, or even something light-hearted to lift the mood, like Jiraiya would have. But Atsuko had made a morbidly accurate point: the life expectancy of a Shinobi was low. Making it beyond 30 _was_ a great achievement, especially to young and impressionable Genin who didn’t know any better. Orochimaru shuddered slightly. If such averages were true, he was already half way through his life.

A little while later, with Atsuko’s words hanging like lead in the air, sleep came to them. Or, rather, it came to the three Genin. Orochimaru sat, wide-awake, keeping an ear out for any unwanted company. Tired though he was, he had trained his body to withstand long periods of wakefulness for the benefit of the mission. _Maybe that’s why our life expectancy is so short,_ he thought bitterly. _Sleep deprivation is a silent killer._ He sighed to himself, stoking the fire. It was cold and knew the standard sleeping bags were not the warmest.

He cast his eyes over his slumbering students, and felt his stomach drop. When they were quiet, their eyelashes long and cheeks flushed with sleep, it struck him how _young_ they seemed. The vulnerability of sleep brings with it moments of contemplation, as well as realisation. Seeing them there, not even teenagers, resting in preparation for a mission, Orochimaru couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for them. They were just kids. It didn’t often strike him, but when it did, it was a heavy burden to feel. He was training them to become weapons in a war he knew was on the horizon. Should children be used like that? Should they be made to become strong? Who draws the line? Who decides what is ‘too young’? Who decides when being a child stops? He, Jiraiya and Tsunade had become Genin when they were just 6 years old. They weren’t the first. They wouldn’t be the last. Orochimaru realised, with familiar weariness, that he didn’t _know_ what it meant to be a child.

Kenji, who had balled up part of his sleeping bag to snuggle against, stirred slightly in his sleep with a gentle snort. Orochimaru wondered what he was dreaming about. Something pleasant, he hoped. He wondered, when Kenji was younger, if he cuddled something when he slept, something comfier than the bundled sleeping bag. Orochimaru never had. Atsuko was curled up tightly, presumably for warmth, her mouth open slightly in soft snores. Her sleeping bag was firmly tucked around her body and she hardly moved from her position. He wondered if she slept that way when she was younger, if her mother had tucked her in to make her feel safe. His mother had done that, long ago. Nawaki, meanwhile, was lying flat on his back, eagle-spread, snoring loudly. It was a wonder the others didn’t wake up. The necklace was draping off his neck at an angle, glowing in the low light, and his sleeping bag was hanging around his waist. Orochimaru wondered who it would have been – the person pulling the covers over him, that is. Would it have been Mito, ever-attentive? Komako, ever-loving? Or Tsunade, wary that their mother was gone, and eager to fill the void? He had so many waiting in the wings, ready to care for him. To love him. Orochimaru had forgotten what that felt like. _Is this what being a kid is like? Sleeping soundly? Looking small beneath the covers? Feeling safe?_

Quite without warning, Orochimaru felt tears on his face. Shocked, he wiped them away slowly, marvelling at the feeling of the warmth on his fingertips. It had been a while since he had shed tears. And for what? For whom was he crying _for_? Chuckling softly to himself, at his own sentimentality, Orochimaru rubbed his eyes. _Since when did I get so soft? I’ve been spending too much time around Jiraiya._ He sighed quietly, closing his eyes, but still listening. The crackle of the fire, the snores of his young students, and the sounds of the night-time forest washed over him. It was peaceful, in an odd sort of way. And much occupied his mind. Most of it was taken up by his students. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the image of them, of how _young_ they seemed. Had his mother gazed at him like that, how a carer would? Did she think him young, harmless, hopeful? What would she think of him now, of what he had become? _But we all turn out like this in the end, don’t we? We, who choose the Shinobi path – it always ends the same way. We don’t sleep peacefully. We don’t look young, anymore. We don’t feel young._ He pressed his lips together, wondering how long it would take before his students felt the same way. When they would lie awake, recounting their horrors, and wondering where the days of childhood abandon had slipped off to. Balling his fists, Orochimaru shuddered slightly. _They have to get past this, first. They have to become strong, otherwise they’ll never make it long enough to reminisce. Though…maybe it’s better if they don’t. Maybe we Shinobi die young for a reason. Maybe it’s too much to bear._

Nawaki stirred from his sleep, sitting up and stretching out like a particularly content cat. He saw Orochimaru, eyes closed, facing the fire, a look of pure dismay on his features.

‘Sensei?’ he whispered, crawling towards him in his sleeping bag. ‘Are you okay?’

Orochimaru opened his eyes and found the young boy sat beside him, looking rather like a caterpillar, since he was bundled up in his sleeping bag. He gazed up at him with large eyes, his head cocked to one side.

‘Yes…I’m fine,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I’m merely thinking about how young you all are, to be honest.’

Nawaki pulled a face. ‘See, this is why Kenji and Atsuko think you’re super old. Saying stuff like that puts years on you, Sensei!’

Orochimaru smirked. ‘So it seems.’

‘And we’re not _that_ young, you know,’ Nawaki said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the others. ‘You and big sis and Jiraiya were Chuunin by now, weren’t you? You were doing the stuff Atsuko only dreams of doing!’

‘She’s foolish to dream such a dream,’ Orochimaru said tightly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with remaining at this point in your life, Nawaki. Bask in the sun for as long as possible. When it turns to night, there is no going back.’

Nawaki blinked at him. ‘What the heck does that mean?’

Orochimaru sighed, his fingers fiddling with the ends of his hair. ‘It means…oh, it doesn’t matter. Telling a child to enjoy his childhood is pointless. You only realise what you had in retrospect.’

‘There you go again!’ Nawaki said. ‘I’m gonna start calling you Granddad Orochimaru, if you’re not careful.’

Orochimaru allowed himself to smile down at Nawaki, a deep fondness in his eyes. _Is this what it’s like to have a brother? To have silly conversations? To want to look after him?_ ‘If you did that, I’m certain your sister would want to have words.’

Nawaki batted his hand in the air as if he was flicking away the comment. ‘Nah, she’d probably agree with me. She’s always said how mature you are and stuff.’

‘Well, she is comparing me to Jiraiya. Even a squirt like you seems mature when he’s the comparison line.’

‘I _am_ quite mature, though!’ Nawaki said, puffing out his chest. ‘I knew about girls liking girls and guys liking guys before Kenji did!’

‘And that’s a sign of maturity, then, is it?’ Orochimaru smiled.

Nawaki’s brow furrowed. ‘I…I dunno! But it sure is a sign of something!’

Orochimaru laughed quietly again. Nawaki was making him feel nostalgic. His attitude was so much like Jiraiya’s, but his expression was like Tsunade’s. He remembered how foolish the three of them had been, lying in the grass by the river and watching the clouds float by, declaring their respective dreams to the morning sunrise and wishing for the moment to prove themselves. How he wished he could go back to then.

‘Sensei, you’re looking all broody again,’ Nawaki said, poking his knee.

‘Forgive me,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘You merely remind me of the past.’

‘I do?’ Nawaki said.

‘Hmm,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘You remind me of a time when…well, it doesn’t really matter. Just don’t go wishing your life away, Nawaki. Maturity is overrated. Far too many people take themselves and their lives too seriously – it’s better, I think, it be care-free. And unfortunately, we’re under the absurd illusion that maturity must result in seriousness. Don’t forget to be a Genin, alright?’

‘A Genin?’ Nawaki snorted. ‘Sensei, I’m gonna be the Hokage, you know that!’

Orochimaru sighed. ‘Yes. I know. You have said so about a million times.’

‘That’s cus’ it’s true!’ he declared. ‘But…you know what?’

‘What?’

‘I think a kid would make a better Hokage than someone mature, cus’ we see things in a better way,’ Nawaki said. ‘You know, like, we think the best of people. We haven’t had to do all that difficult grown-up stuff, and we haven’t become bitter and broody because of it – you know, like you.’

‘Well, thanks a lot.’

‘No!’ Nawaki said frantically, not wishing to cause offence. ‘I just – I meant that like – well, we could all be a bit more childish, right? Cus’ us kids know how to see the good in everything. It’s all new to us, all new and exciting. I mean, look at Kenji – there’s a whole other gender he can explore and he didn’t even know it!’

Orochimaru chuckled. ‘I can’t argue with you there, Nawaki.’

‘But really,’ Nawaki said, feeling for the necklace and clutching the pendant, ‘I think a Hokage who can have an in-the-moment happiness of a kid would make the _best_ Hokage. That’s why I’m gonna be the best. Cus’ I’m never going to lose sight of who I was, who I am, and who I hope to be.’

Orochimaru’s expression changed. When did children get so wise? He understood, all at once, that wisdom and maturity were different things. Wisdom manifests, but maturity is a choice. Those who suffer are those who believe that anything joyous, spontaneous, or silly, to be _immature_ and _childish._ Those who flourish are those who use maturity when it suits them, but never lose sight of their inner child. They hold on to who they were, who they are, and who they hope to be. The wise are the strong. And sometimes, children are wiser than us all.

‘Alright, Nawaki,’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘You show me. Show us all. Show us the kind of Hokage you can be.’

*

It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. _It wasn’t supposed to happen like this._ It was meant to be a simple mission. _It’s a simple mission._ Shinobi from Iwagakure were not reported to be in those parts. _They shouldn’t be here_.

‘Sensei!’ Atsuko screamed. ‘What’s happening?! Where are they all coming from?!’

‘The trees!’ Kenji yelped, and sure enough, he was right. Orochimaru counted seven, eight, nine Shinobi, the unmistakable mark of Iwagakure glinting on their headbands. Orochimaru knew they were starting to challenge borders, but he never imagined they’d progressed so far. Hiruzen hadn’t warned him. If he’d know, it wouldn’t be a C-rank, it would be a –

One jumped down in front of him, bearing his teeth. Orochimaru lashed out immediately and stabbed him in the throat, his experience taking over his body like it was muscle memory. He scanned the area wildly, his hair falling over his face. He pushed it from eyes, smearing the enemy’s blood over his pale forehead as he did so. _The enemy are Chuunin level, at least. I can dispense with them if I am fast enough. Kenji is to my right, engaged with one. His ninjutsu is better than I give him credit for, but he won’t outlast. Atsuko is in front of me…good, she’s using her ocular jutsu…but where….?_

Orochimaru didn’t have time to think before he heard a cry from his right. Kenji, as predicted, was struggling. Grunting, Orochimaru whistled over in the blink of an eye and knocked the enemy unconscious.

‘Kenji,’ he panted, shaking the trembling boy’s shoulders. ‘Stick with me as much as you can, but stay out of sight.’

Terrified, Kenji nodded so hard Orochimaru was worried his head might fall off.

The pair of them shot towards Atsuko, who was holding her own rather impressively, considering she was a lone Genin against three enemy Shinobi.

‘Atsuko!’ Orochimaru shouted, ‘duck!’

The girl obeyed at once and Orochimaru weaved hand-signs – _ox, dog, dragon, rat, dog, boar, snake, tiger_ – and performed one of the first and most reliable of the techniques Hiruzen had taught him – the Shadow Shuriken Jutsu. Every time he used it, his mind flashed back to when Jiraiya had attempted it to impress Tsunade and failed miserably – ‘ _Sh-shuriken…whatever jutsu!’_ – and despite the seriousness of the situation, the memory appeared before his eyes, momentarily blocking out the sight of the Iwagakure Shinobi being punctured by shuriken. But it wasn’t that easy. Because of course it wasn’t.

‘Look out!’ Atsuko yelled.

Boulders, no doubt a complex earth-style jutsu, thundered down upon them. Orochimaru grabbed Atsuko and Kenji under each arm and dodged, trying to find cover. _Where are they coming from? Where’s Nawaki?_

It was chaos. The noise of the boulders smacking down against the trees and the forest floor splintered in the air, and Orochimaru gritted his teeth. They could be in trouble if they didn’t tread carefully. If he was alone, he would have no qualms about taking risks to get the job done – and he’d be able to – but he _had_ to think about his students. They wouldn’t be able to handle what was going to be asked of them, and leaving them to hide was not a good tactic. They would have to work together if they were going to get through it.

But they weren’t together. Or, at least, one of them wasn’t. Orochimaru’s heart was in his mouth as he whirred around, his eyes frantically searching in the low light. _Where’s Nawaki? Where’s Nawaki? Where’s Nawaki?_ The panicked question smacked against his thumping heart with every beat as he dodged the onslaught of boulders. When they struck the ground, some of them exploded. _Must be a combination of earth and fire styles. Perhaps they’re stronger than I first thought?_

He could taste dirt and smoke in his mouth. Kenji was wailing, clearly terrified within an inch of his life, but Atsuko was being more useful. Sharingan flashing, she shouted orders at Orochimaru to help guide him as they weaved in and out of the trees. _Get to an open space. Then we can see where they’re coming from and what we’re dealing with. Then we can find Nawaki._ Smoke rose from the trees and stung his eyes, but he kept going. There was no backing down. _I am a Sensei, now. My students are my priority._

The three of them scampered into a clearing and formed a defensive circle, drawing their weapons. Kenji’s kunai trembled in his hands and Orochimaru swallowed thickly. This was no place for a kid. Genin or not, he was a child. A child who –

‘Nawaki!’ Atsuko cried, her voice full of relief. ‘Where the hell were you?!’

Orochimaru looked up and saw Nawaki stumbling towards them, blood running down from his forehead and his eyes wide. They were torn between fear and something Orochimaru could only describe as determination – raw, unwavering determination. Tripping over his feet with fatigue, a kunai drawn behind his back, Nawaki swung around a tree as he continued on his way towards them. The wind was blowing through his brown hair, the necklace trailing behind him and glinting in the glow of the explosions that followed him. There was an odd expression on his face. Some might call it a smile, others a grimace. Orochimaru didn’t have time to process it.

‘Sensei!’ Nawaki called. ‘I counted another four of them, and they -’

_Crash._

In a split second, even less than that, a smoking boulder exploded where Nawaki was standing. Orochimaru didn’t have a moment to even realise what had just happened. It was like a scene from a nightmare, where the severe and desperate mantra of _this can’t happen_ is the only thing sparing the mind from unrelenting terror. The relief on wakefulness is unlike anything else. But there was no relief. Only the terror. The shock and the horror and the anger bubbled up and he saw red. The emotion was so intense and so unexpected it felt like something was jammed in his throat, choking him and strangling him and squeezing the life out of him. _This can’t happen._ He could hear Kenji screaming. Atsuko was silent, her eyes wide and her body shaking. _This can’t happen._ He saw something on the floor. It must have blown off with the impact of the boulder. The necklace. _This can’t happen._

They were surrounded. The inactivity of shock had stalled him. He was almost angry at himself. He wasn’t like that. He was trained to carry on no matter what he saw. And he always did. Didn’t he? No matter who died, no matter how much blood stained the floor, he completed his mission. _This can’t happen._

A kunai whistled towards his left ear and he deflected it without a second thought. There was something inside him, something raw and primal and _angry._ Is this how Tsunade felt, when she pummelled Jiraiya? The last time he remembered feeling such uncontrollable emotions was when Fumihiro Hyuga had attacked Tsunade and Jiraiya when they were still at the Academy. Or maybe it was when he was in the hospital after Tsunade’s outburst and he felt like he wanted to snap her neck. Such a thought was not something he took lightly. Such feelings were not something he felt often. But Nawaki had been… _this can’t happen._

It was over before Kenji and Atsuko could react. Even if they could, they were too terrified to move. It was like their Sensei had been overcome by something dark and malicious, something hell-bent on revenge. He tore through the assailants, cutting them down like they were made of paper and deflecting their attacks as though they were utterly harmless. Blood soaked up his forearms and he left red footprints in his wake as he slashed his way through the clearing, up the trees, into the forest, killing and killing and killing. Unstoppable. Terrifying.

_I’m going to become the Hokage. That’s my dream!_ Orochimaru crushed an enemy’s ribs, the broken bones puncturing her internal organs for a slow and painful death.

_I’m never going to lose sight of who I was, who I am, and who I hope to be._ Orochimaru ducked under a flurry of stone bullets and stabbed another in the neck, grinning as he gurgled pathetically and crumpled in a heap.

_This is amazing! Look at all the food! And the cake!_ Orochimaru slammed the next attacker against a tree with such force that the blunt trauma caved his chest in, killing him instantly.

_I’m gonna be the best!_ Orochimaru broke bones, he spilt blood, he cut flesh, until they were all dead in a heap around him. Him and his three – no, _two_ – students.

When it was done, he stood as still as a statue. He wasn’t even panting from the effort. Blood dripped down his hands, off the ends of his hair, a stark contrast from the whiteness of his skin. He stared at the boulder. It was a cruel sort of blessing that he couldn’t see even a trace of Nawaki’s body, apart from the splatters of blood. He had been completely consumed. Completely gone, in a blink of an eye. _This can’t happen. He didn’t even have a chance. Not even a single second._

Orochimaru felt something shift inside him, like a switch had gone off. All his life, he had been fighting to become strong enough to protect those he held dear. It was a mantra he didn’t even know he had. Even before his parents died, even before Jiraiya had been injured on that mission, all those years ago, Orochimaru was a person who would fight for others. A person who wanted to become strong, not necessarily for his own gain, but because he had to break the boundaries. He had to secure greatness. He had to become the one who protects everyone. _Like a Hokage_. Seeing Nawaki, or, rather, seeing where he had died, set off something deep the dark realms of his psyche. An obsession with being strong. With living. _Everything crumbles and fades away. Everything. My parents. Even little Nawaki, who was brighter than the sun. We all die. We all decay. And I’m not strong enough to stop it._

This was the moment Orochimaru began to spiral.

*

Whistling, Jiraiya waved goodbye to the head chef at his favourite barbecue place, grinning and patting his stomach. Nothing beat a good meal, especially after the rigorous day of training he’d put himself through. He had gotten to a point now, in regards to his senjutsu training, that he couldn’t move past an invisible obstacle without outside help. _Time for a trip back to Myoboku, I reckon_ , he thought cheerfully. _Or I could ask Oro for help when he gets back. Shouldn’t be long, now_. He made his way through the narrow streets, and felt rain start to fall from the grey clouds above. It was another miserable evening – he wasn’t sure why, but the weather had taken a turn for the worst. Huffing, he took shelter in the doorway of a shop.

‘Jiraiya, hey!’ came a voice from over the street. He looked up through the sheets of rain and saw Hiromichi Uchiha, wearing the uniform of the Konoha police force and waving him over.

Ducking into the rain, Jiraiya jogged over. ‘Evening, Hiromichi. Neat getup. Since when were you on the Police Force?’

‘Since my dad asked me to,’ Hiromichi said. ‘We’ve been understaffed since so many of us have been sent on recon missions of late.’

‘What, is something coming?’ Jiraiya said.

‘Potentially,’ Hiromichi said. ‘Our visual prowess, along with the Hyugas’, makes us perfect for gathering intel. I can’t say for sure, but Lord Third seems on high alert. I guess you could say that tensions are brewing between the Great Nations.’

Jiraiya bit his lip. ‘Is that what you’re doing now? Off on a recon mission?’

Hiromichi shook his head. ‘No, I’m doing my rounds. But we just got signalled from the front gate – looks like your pal Orochimaru ran into some trouble on the road.’

‘What?’ Jiraiya said, anxiety creeping up his throat. ‘What the hell happened? Is he alright? Is he injured?’

‘Hold your horses, big shot,’ Hiromichi said. ‘I know as much as you do. Border control requested our help, so, that’s where I’m off to. I figured you’d wanna come along too, since you’re so close.’

‘Of course,’ Jiraiya said, all thoughts of journeying to Myoboku flying from his mind. ‘Lead the way, Hiromichi.’

The two boys raced through the Village. It was quiet, almost deserted – likely due to the late hour and the heavy rainfall – which made the general aura rather eerie. Jiraiya kept his eyes glued on the uchiwa – the fan insignia – on the back of Hiromichi’s dark flak jacket. The two of them had become relatively friendly ever since Jiraiya had saved him from the Inoshishi, and had a mutual respect for one another that not many of their classmates shared. If something _had_ happened to Orochimaru, heaven forbid, Jiraiya was confident in Hiromichi’s ability to make decisions. He supposed it was a good sign that a medical ninja hadn’t been called to the scene, but he couldn’t help the worry thundering in his chest. What if Orochimaru had made a huge mistake? What if he’d failed his mission? Even if was only a C-rank for the sake of the Genin, Jiraiya had figured out how important it was for Orochimaru to be successful. He hadn’t quite worked out why he was so obsessed with a perfect record, though, given that Orochimaru hadn’t told a soul about his deal with Danzo. It didn’t matter. The most important thing was making sure he was alright.

‘What’s the situation?’ Hiromichi said, when the two boys arrived at Konoha’s large gate. To Jiraiya’s surprise, one of the Chuunin on duty was Yui Inuzuka, one half of the Inuzuka twins who had shared a class with them. She was petting her dog, her expression grave.

‘Orochimaru sent word ahead to us, requesting an official met us at the gate,’ she said, scratching the dog’s ears absentmindedly. ‘He didn’t say what had happened in the message, but from what we can gather, something is messed up.’

‘Should we get Lord Third here?’ Hiromichi asked.

‘No point ‘till we know what we’re dealing with,’ Yui said, leaning back in her chair. ‘But believe me, of all the times I’ve been on duty here before, Orochimaru has never requested help.’

‘Did he request medical attention?’ Hiromichi pressed.

Yui shook her head. ‘Like I said, we had minimal information. All he wants is someone on duty to meet him here. If there was any real danger to life, the guy is smart enough to request a medical ninja be here, too.’

Jiraiya breathed out a sigh of relief. Even if something had gone wrong, as Yui and Hiromichi were so certain it had, no one was injured. That was a good sign. Right?

Edgily, Jiraiya and Hiromichi ducked under the cover of the gate hut, out of the rain. It was really coming down, and thunder could be heard rumbling overhead. Yui’s dog whimpered, but it wasn’t because of the nose. He could sense something was coming. Animals are attuned to certain emotions, and Yui could tell from his reaction, too, that _something_ had happened. She gulped, keeping her eyes trained on the path leading out of the Village.

After what felt like a lifetime, Orochimaru’s team appeared in the distance. Jiraiya jumped out of the hut, eagerly awaiting them, but they were walking slowly. Very slowly. Frowning, he squinted through the sheets of rain. Orochimaru appeared to be carrying something bundled up in his arms.

‘Hey,’ Hiromichi muttered, his eyes narrowed as Orochimaru’s squad made their way closer. ‘Isn’t Orochimaru in charge of three Genin?’

‘Huh?’ Jiraiya said. ‘Yeah, of course he is.’

Hiromichi swallowed thickly. ‘Then why are there only two?’

When Orochimaru reached the gate, Jiraiya worked it out. Bile rose in his throat and he doubled over, at risk of bringing up his barbecue dinner, when he realised what Orochimaru was carrying. _Who_ he was carrying.

‘My God,’ Yui whispered, her hand over her mouth.

Orochimaru eyes were empty. He looked at Jiraiya, who was shaking, and spoke in a monotone voice. ‘Help me.’

Falling to his knees, Jiraiya balled his fist against the front of his shirt. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. A torrent of emotions crashed over him, and he didn’t know if he wanted to scream, cry, or lash out. _This can’t happen._

‘Orochimaru, give him here,’ Hiromichi said, his voice shaking. He offered out his arms but Orochimaru refused to pass the bundle over. He clutched it to his body, his knuckles white, shaking his head.

‘He’s my responsibility,’ he whispered. ‘I carried him all the way. He’s so light. Gods, he is so light.’

Hiromichi gritted his teeth together. Why, out of all the Uchiha Police Force, did he have to be the one on duty? Shaking he head, he tried to pull himself together, remembering the steps he had to follow. He took a deep breath.

‘Okay,’ he said, his voice thick. ‘You don’t have to let go of him, Orochimaru. You go to the E-wing of the Hospital and…and deposit the body. I’ll take care of these two.’ He looked at Atsuko and Kenji, who were staring, wide-eyed, at the crumpled body in their Sensei’s arms. They hadn’t said a word all the way back. Kenji cried until he ran out of tears. Orochimaru didn’t try to comfort them. He was too busy trying to stop himself from breaking.

‘I’ll…report to the Hokage,’ Yui said, with some difficulty. ‘But you know…someone needs to…’ she trailed off, a sinking feeling brewing in her stomach. She couldn’t say that she liked Tsunade all that much, but she wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy.

Hiromichi nodded, his hands settling gently on Atsuko and Kenji’s shoulders. ‘I’ll get these two back home. Jiraiya, could you -’

‘ – no,’ Jiraiya said, his voice fractured. ‘I…I can’t tell them.’

Hiromichi looked at him, his rescuer, with sad eyes. He’d never seen Jiraiya _scared_ before. He looked so small, crouched in the dirt, the rain soaking through his clothes. His hands were trembling and his eyes hadn’t left Orochimaru’s. He couldn’t ask him to do that, not when he was so close to Tsunade and her Grandmother. It would be cruel. Too cruel.

‘…okay,’ Hiromichi said firmly. ‘You don’t have to. Go with Orochimaru to the Hospital, alright? I’ll sort the rest of it out.’

For the first time in his life, Hiromichi felt like a leader. He thought the moment would bring him great pride, that he’d finally feel as though he lived up to his Clan’s famous name. But he felt no such pride as he led the two traumatised Genin away from the scene, watching as Jiraiya and Orochimaru, heads stooped, begin the long trek to the Hospital. He only felt dread. Dread, for what had happened, what he had to do next, and what was to come.

He knew Tsunade was intelligent. She could read the room. She could have guessed what had happened the moment she opened the door to him, seeing his expression. She could have guessed when he told her to go the E-wing. Where the morgue is. _So, why do you need to hear me say it?_

‘Hiromichi,’ she whispered. ‘What’s happened?’

Hiromichi felt sick. Breaking bad news was part of his job, but it didn’t mean he was prepared for it. ‘I…is your Grandmother in?’ _You’ll need the support._

Tsunade shook her head and his heart sank. ‘No, she’s away on a diplomatic mission with Kagami Uchiha. Still has sway, being a Council Member. But why…why do you need to speak with her? What’s happened?’

Taking a steading breath, Hiromichi picked his next words carefully. Despite his previous assertion of not wanting to force Jiraiya to tell her, he also figured that hearing the news from someone she hardly knew would only make it harder. Besides, he was rubbish at comforting people. When he and Fumihiro were locked up in the Inoshishi’s hideout, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him to help. He could never find the words. He certainly couldn’t now.

‘Jiraiya is waiting for you in E-wing,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Go to him. He’ll explain everything. Just hurry.’

Tsunade bolted out the door without so much as a glance back. She didn’t even put outdoor shoes on. He watched her run. He felt heat in his eyes. _She doesn’t deserve this. No one deserves this. Huh. Never thought I’d feel sorry for a Senju._

Tsunade ran through the night, the soft soles of her slippers soaking against the wet pavement. Rain flew into her face and stung against her eyes, but she didn’t stop for a second. The E-wing. The morgue. Jiraiya. _Jiraiya is fine. Hiromichi said he’d explain,_ Tsunade thought to herself, trying to stay calm. _But why the morgue? Why Jiraiya? Is Benjiro okay?_ Her heart leapt into her throat when she realised how long Orochimaru had been gone. They were due back any day now. _Oro…no…he’ll be fine. It was a C-rank. It’s fine. It’ll be fine_. She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of her frantic thoughts. There was no point guessing. _Get to the E-wing. Find Jiraiya. Find out what’s happened._

Of course, she didn’t have to ask what had happened. Eyes followed her as she raced through the familiar Hospital corridors, soaking wet from the rain. _Why are they all staring at me? Why do they look…sympathetic?_ She turned the corner, nearly flattening a passing medical ninja, but she didn’t stop. _They’re looking at me the same way they did when Mother died._ Finally, she reached the open door of the E-wing. Jiraiya was loitering near the doorframe, his head bowed. Orochimaru was leaning against the wall, arms folded, skin waxy and pale, sleeves stained with dried blood. She panted, trying to catch her breath. The rain pattered heavily against the roof, and it was dark. Shadows stretched across the room, through the second doorway, curling around a table with a body on it. A small body. Covered with a sheet. Two medical ninjas were looming over it like angels of death, expressions grave and saddened. Tsunade didn’t have to ask. She already knew.

‘Tsunade.’ Jiraiya’s voice was faraway, like he was trying to rouse her from a dream. She moved forward almost mechanically, wanting proof, wanting to know for sure it was her brother under the sheet, but she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

‘It’s better that you don’t look at the body,’ Jiraiya whispered. _The body._ Since when was Nawaki referred to as a ‘body’?

‘What does it matter?’ Orochimaru said. His voice was flat. Emotionless. Drained. ‘It’s not like she’ll be able to tell just by…’

‘Stop it, Orochimaru,’ Jiraiya said, his grip tightening on Tsunade’s shoulder. _Why did he say that? There’s no need. What the hell is wrong with him?_

Lightening lit up the small room and Tsunade stared mutely at her teammates. Jiraiya’s face was concerned and his eyes were red with tears. Orochimaru seemed to glow ethereally as the lightning brightened the small room, his eyes blank. He looked like a ghost. For a moment, she was scared of him. Then, he continued talking.

‘We’re always at war, one way or another, aren’t we?’ he said, his voice flat. ‘All Shinobi end up like this in the end. There are no medical ninjas on the battlefield. No one to help. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. We’re all doomed to meet a sticky end. Even…children.’ He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the necklace, dangling it from his fingers.

‘Orochimaru…’ Jiraiya said, his tone warning. ‘Enough.’

The necklace hanging from Orochimaru’s hand was confirmation enough. Nawaki would never have parted with it. It represented everything he held dear – his family, his dreams, and his precious mantra.

‘He was supposed to become Hokage.’ Tsunade’s voice came out in a choked whisper. Jiraiya’s hand tightened against her shoulder again, wincing at her words. ‘And I was supposed to watch him do it.’

‘Tsunade,’ Jiraiya murmured, resisting the urge to hold her if she didn’t want to be, ‘it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.’

She pulled away from him roughly, shaking her head.

‘No it’s not!’ she shouted. ‘How is _any_ of this okay?! He’s dead! He’s – he was a _kid_. None of this is okay!’ She whirred around and glared at Orochimaru, torn between grief and anger. She threw a finger at him, her arm shaking.

‘What the hell happened, huh?!’ she cried. ‘You were supposed to be looking out for him! You promised me!’

Jiraiya winced at her tone, but Orochimaru merely blinked at her indifferently. _Everything crumbles and fades away_. ‘What does it matter? It would have turned out like this sooner or later. Such is a Shinobi’s life.’

If she was the same person she was 8 months ago, Tsunade might have hit him. She wanted to. She wanted to punch him in the face, break his nose, and slam him against the wall until he choked out an explanation. But she wasn’t like that anymore. She wanted to be more like her mother. Not her father. She wanted to be more like…Nawaki. She dropped her arm, sinking to her knees. She didn’t want to know what had happened to leave Nawaki’s body so unrecognisable. She could go to her grave without ever knowing that. But Orochimaru told her anyway, in that same monotone, emotionless, distant voice.

‘They came out of nowhere,’ he said. The only indication that he was feeling _anything_ was the slight shake of the necklace in his hand as he spoke. ‘We weren’t even that far away from our destination, but we were surrounded by Shinobi from Iwagakure. He was crushed by a rock before any of us could react. I carried him all the way back. He felt so small. I carried him. I carried him.’

His voice shook at the end. Maybe he was feeling something, after all. Jiraiya closed his eyes, pressing his lips together. This was the moment he kept himself together and appeared strong to his teammates. One was broken by losing a student on his watch, and the other was processing life-altering news. There was no time to dwell on it. No time to remember sneaking a slice of cake on to the kid’s plate when he was just 3 years old. No time to remember what is sounded like when he called him ‘Big Brother’. No time to remember the look of pure delight in his eyes when he saw his surprise birthday party. There was no time for that.

He knelt down to the ground next to Tsunade and rubbed her back, whispering fleeting words of comfort he wasn’t sure would even help. Grief overtook her and she started to cry, as if it had taken her a moment to realise what she had just lost. Her body shook and he stayed with her, his arms open and ready if she needed someone to cling onto. He would always be there, if she needed him. No matter what. Her choked cries echoed in the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, blindly wishing for the power to turn back time. And a part of him couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. _He_ was the one who was supposed to change the world. _He_ was the one who was supposed to find the Child of Prophecy. _I have to get my act together. I must find the one who can bring peace. To all of us. If just to save Tsunade any more pain, I have to do it. I have to._

Orochimaru wished he was more like Jiraiya. He wished he could be strong enough to get on his knees and comfort his teammates, but he didn’t want to touch her. He didn’t even want to look at her. Because he felt like he didn’t deserve to. _It was my fault. He was under my care. It was all my fault_. And when he left, he didn’t spare them a backward glance. He could hear her crying as he walked through the Hospital, feeling eyes on him, some of which were full of tears. _Yes, it’s true,_ Orochimaru thought bitterly. _It’s me. I’m the one who killed the First’s Grandson, aren’t I? He would have died sooner or later, that much is true, but…maybe he could have lived for a little longer if someone else had been his Sensei._

_Useless. You’re useless._

_You’re a useless friend and a useless Sensei._

_You couldn’t even bring yourself to say sorry to her._

_You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry._

_Useless._

_Freak._

_Monster._

*

Nawaki’s funeral was reserved for his nearest and dearest. Even though many of the villagers wanted to attend, as they had done for Komako’s, Tsunade had made it clear that she wanted a private ceremony. She couldn’t process the endless condolences all over again, and only wanted her family – what was left of it, anyway – and Nawaki’s close friends to be there. Her wish was granted at Hiruzen’s behest. He was utterly floored by what had transpired, and was furious to boot. He held an emergency war meeting after Orochimaru had mechanically recited what happened, and was currently investigating why Iwagakure had made such a merciless and bold move. Danzo was more than ready to retaliate, and while it seemed as though he was merely impassioned by Nawaki’s death, Hiruzen knew better – he knew he was itching for an excuse for an all-out war.

‘Attacking a group of Genin, really,’ Biwako hissed, clenching her fists as they stood in the front row before Nawaki’s grave. He put his hand over her closed fist and held it.

‘Now is not the time for this, Biwako,’ he said gently. ‘I am as angry as you are. But we will make this right, one way or another. Right now, however, we mourn.’

As soon as he said those words, a lump grew in his throat. Tsunade and Mito had stood up and were facing the fresh mound where he was buried. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could read their body language. And despite her unshakable strength in the face of adversity, Mito was trembling, clutching a hankie to her mouth to stifle her sobs.

‘This is against the laws of nature,’ Biwako whispered, her voice thick with tears. ‘Not only has she out-lived her own daughter, but her grandson, too. Oh, Hiruzen, I can hardly bear it.’ She buried her face into his shoulder and he put his arm around her, his lower lip trembling. She was right, of course. Mito had buried her husband, her only daughter, and her precious grandson. It was a wonder she was holding herself together so well.

Hiruzen swallowed his grief and looked around at the small gathering. Along with he and Biwako, Koharu and Homura were there. The latter was openly allowing tears to fall down his face. He had a soft spot for Senju heir, and both he and Koharu were feeling grief for their Sensei, the Second Hokage. They knew how much Tobirama had loved his grandson. Next to them was Taichi, who was looking grave.

‘You’d think he’d shed a tear for his own son,’ Biwako mumbled, wiping her eyes and following Hiruzen’s line of sight.

‘Taichi is a difficult man,’ Hiruzen said evenly. ‘He may be still…processing.’

A little way away from Taichi stood Nawaki’s Academy Sensei, who was snivelling to himself. Beside him were Kenji and Atsuko, both crying into their hands, both removed from active duty for the time being as they recovered from the emotional turmoil. A few more of Nawaki’s friends, whom Hiruzen recognised from the party, stood behind them, sniffling and hugging each other. On the other side stood Jiraiya and Benjiro, both standing tall, both trying to keep themselves together. And next to Jiraiya was Orochimaru, head bowed, expression unreadable.

‘I’m worried about him,’ Hiruzen said, more to himself than to Biwako.

She looped his arms in his and squeezed it. ‘I know you are, but right now, Hiruzen, I think you’re worried about the wrong student.’

Her eyes fell on Tsunade, who reached out for Mito’s hand and held it tightly. Hiruzen felt a pang for her. If someone had told him, when she came under his care all those years ago, that she would have to endure such heartache, he would have given anything to change it. But he couldn’t turn back the clock, no more than the next person. All he could do was prey she wouldn’t fall apart.

‘The poor dear,’ Biwako whispered, fresh tears in her eyes. ‘How I wish I could say something, anything, to help her.’

As if on cue, Jiraiya stepped up to stand beside her. The pair of them watched as he tentatively put his arm around her, and for a moment, Hiruzen was worried she’d shove him away as she did when they were younger. But she leant into him, pressing her cheek against the crook of his neck, and he held her securely, whispering something in her ear. _He’s a good lad,_ Hiruzen thought. _Even after everything they’ve been through, he still stands by her._ His gaze fell back to Orochimaru, who had his eyes trained on Jiraiya and Tsunade’s backs. _What could be going through his mind?_ Hiruzen wondered, sadness welling up in his stomach. He could hardly imagine losing one of his own students. He loved his three very dearly, and the thought of anything happening to them filled him with dread. He shuddered to think what Orochimaru was shouldering.

Orochimaru was breathing heavily, evenly, through his nose, as he glowered at the two of them. How could Jiraiya be so casual about comforting her? How did he find it so easy to talk to her? For him, even seeing her was enough to gag him. _It’s because you feel guilty,_ Jiraiya had asserted, when he fixed Orochimaru’s black tie before the funeral. _Like when Tsu didn’t want to be around me after she beat the snot of me, remember? She felt so bad about it that she could barely look at me. But you know, Oro, that only made it harder. It made me feel awful for something that wasn’t my fault._

He sighed to himself. He’d never felt guilt before. Logically, as he told himself every night when he couldn’t get to sleep for feeling the weight of Nawaki’s body in his arms, it wasn’t his fault. It had happened so quickly. If Nawaki was paying more attention, he would have sensed it. _But say that, and Tsunade would probably talk to me again. And I wouldn’t blame her._ He ran a hand through his dark hair. All he wanted was to go up to his friends and comfort them. He knew Jiraiya was grieving too, and was just trying to stay strong for Tsunade’s sake. He needed the support as much as the next person. But going to stand with them would force him to look at the fresh mound of earth, force him to relive what had happened. If he had to mark a turning point in his life, watching Nawaki die in front of him was it. He wondered, often, if he only felt so dreadful because he was Tsunade’s brother. If it was Kenji or Atsuko, would he have felt a lump in his throat? Would he be unable to sleep? Would he grimace at the thought of looking Tsunade in the eye? _She doesn’t blame you, Oro,_ Jiraiya had said, time and time again. _She knows it was a freak accident. If she did blame you, you’d know by now._

But Jiraiya’s assertion was hardly enough to magically make him feel better. He just couldn’t shake the images from his mind – of Nawaki peacefully sleeping by the campfire, of how bright his eyes were when he declared he’d become the Hokage, of the look of determination in his face as he tried to report how many Shinobi were perusing. It was like every moment he’d spent with the boy was playing over and over in his mind. _And Tsunade looks so much like him. To look at her feels as though I’m looking at him._ As if reading his mind, Tsunade turned slightly to catch his eye. She was holding the pendant of the necklace in her free hand, trembling slightly. Her face was puffy with tears, and even as they continued to stream down her face, she looked utterly furious. _Is she angry at me after all?_

She wasn’t angry at him, not really. She was angry at the whole situation. Gritting her teeth, Tsunade glared at the grave like she wanted to smash it to piece. _Maybe if I do, it’ll bring him back. He can’t be dead if there’s no place to bury him, right?_ She shook her head, cursing herself. _Idiot. You’re an idiot. If you hadn’t filled his head with ideas about being the Hokage, maybe he wouldn’t have been so foolhardy. You damn idiot._ She felt Jiraiya tighten his grip around her and she pressed into him, feeling like her legs might give out if she didn’t have someone to support her. She was so tired. No one tells you how draining grief can be.

Once it was over, people began filtering away, leaving what was left of the Senjus to their mourning. Tsunade endured the pats on her shoulder and the words of sympathy, but somehow, they weren’t as bad as they were when Komako died. She supposed it was because the people gathered really knew Nawaki. They really loved him. _He was easy to love._ Eventually, Mito turned away, too, heading back to the Mansion for the gathering. It would be one of the last times she crossed the threshold. She and Tsunade silently agreed that they would move out of the Mansion sooner than planned. There was too much of Nawaki in the house. Neither of them could stand it.

After a while, Jiraiya gently prised Tsunade away from him and mustered a watery smile.

‘Reckon it’s time we moved on?’ he asked, his voice soft. Gently, he moved a strand of hair away from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

‘I suppose,’ Tsunade managed, sniffing. ‘I just…I can stand to think of him down there in the dark. He never liked the dark.’

Jiraiya swallowed. ‘Nawaki was a brave kid. He’ll be just fine. And hey, it’s not really down there, you know? He’s probably up _there_ , giving your mother and the old geezers the run-around.’

Tsunade nodded, grateful for his efforts. Jiraiya, for all his flaws, was someone she could rely on. She couldn’t believe it had taken her that long to see it. As they turned to leave, they found Orochimaru waiting for them, along with an unwanted guest. Tsunade bristled, balling her fists.

‘What do you want, Father?’ she spat. She had hardly spoken to him since she had essentially kicked him out of their home, and it was Mito who had broken the news about Nawaki.

‘I wish to mourn the passing of my son, if it’s all the same to you,’ Taichi said tightly, approaching them. Jiraiya took a protective step in front of Tsunade. As if she needed it, but the gesture was sweet.

‘We’re not stopping you,’ he said, an edge to his voice.

Taichi nodded curtly, and stepped closer, casting his gaze over Nawaki’s grave. He sucked in a breath, as if seeing it close up was confirmation for what had happened. Swallowing thickly, Tsunade watched as he lay a scarred hand on the cool surface of the stone, wincing as he made contact, like it had burned him.

‘Oh, little Nawaki,’ he murmured. ‘What a sorrowful end for a soul as bright as yours.’

Tsunade blinked at him in shock. Last time she checked, Taichi didn’t give two hoots about his son. He had started spiralling mere months after Nawaki was born, and spent little time with him. When he realised that the so-called raw talent of the First Hokage must have skipped a generation, he barely paid Nawaki a second thought. So, where was this coming from? This honesty, this grief? For a moment, she wanted to reach out to him. But the moment was short lived. Taichi straightened up, breathing deeply.

‘Well, Tsuna,’ he said gruffly, ‘I suppose you’re the only Senju heir, now, aren’t you?’

‘What does it matter?’ Tsunade growled.

‘It doesn’t, not now the name is meaningless to carry,’ Taichi said, his tone almost wistful. ‘Dear Nawaki…so convinced he would become Hokage, wasn’t he?’

Tsunade winced as if he’d slapped her.

‘What was it you said that evening?’ Taichi said. ‘Why, it was something along the lines of _if Nawaki thinks he can do it, then he can._ Such advice didn’t go very far, did it?’

Before Tsunade react, someone got there before him. There was a crunch of bone against bone and Taichi reeled backwards, blood exploding from his nose in a large arc. Breathing heavily, his knuckles red with the impact, Orochimaru stood, his body reared backwards to punch him again should he retaliate.

‘O – Oro!’ Jiraiya spluttered, shocked and amused in equal measure.

‘Not another word, scum,’ Orochimaru snarled, as Taichi struggled to right himself. ‘You had no right to be a father, and no right to say such things. Nawaki deserved – no, he _deserves_ – better. Better than you. You’re a disgrace.’

Taichi wiped the blood from his mouth and looked at Orochimaru in disbelief. Where was the quiet, introverted genius who had been at his dinner table so often? In his place was a young man shaking with anger, ready to challenge anyone who would dare speak ill of his deceased student. Smirking morbidly, Taichi held up his hands.

‘And here I was thinking you had no balls,’ he said. ‘I have no quarrel with you, kid. And I can see emotions are running high. I’d say I’ll see you at the Mansion, but I suppose I’m not welcome, am I?’ He looked at Tsunade, who was white with shock. She pressed her lips together.

‘I don’t care what you do,’ she spat. ‘Like I said, I can hardly feel anything for you anymore. Pay your respects to Nawaki, but I don’t want anything to do with you.’

She turned and marched away, and Jiraiya and Orochimaru followed. When they were nearing the Mansion and out of Taichi’s earshot, Jiraiya couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter, no matter how inappropriate it may have seemed.

‘I cannot _believe_ you just socked him, Orochimaru!’ he chuckled. ‘You should have seen the look on his face! He was absolutely gobsmacked!’

‘Well, his gob _did_ get smacked, so I can’t say I’m surprised,’ Orochimaru muttered.

‘Man, someone should have done that a long time ago,’ Jiraiya sighed, putting his arms behind his head. ‘The bastard has had it coming for years, wouldn’t you say, Tsu?’

Tsunade pressed her lips together. ‘Maybe. But I didn’t envision a brawl at my brother’s funeral, you know.’

Jiraiya’s face fell, and guilt swarmed in Orochimaru’s stomach again.

‘But,’ she continued, ‘I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t incredibly satisfying’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Jiraiya grinned, before reaching over to ruffle Orochimaru’s hair. ‘That’s our Oro, for you. Always picks his moments!’

When they reached the Mansion, Tsunade paused at the door. She had no desire to go to the gathering and be around so many mourners, even if it was in Nawaki’s memory. Mito hadn’t even made a cake, and given it was her go-to for every occasion, it was obvious something was exceptionally wrong.

‘Say,’ Tsunade murmured, ‘wanna go to the roof?’

The three of them walked up the stairs wordlessly, feeling cold breeze ruffle their clothes as they reached the top. The fairy lights Tsunade and Jiraiya had decided to leave were still there, though they weren’t switched on. It didn’t seem appropriate, a reminder of the time before the sorrow. Sighing quietly to herself, Tsunade stepped and climbed over the railing, landing on the slats of the roof. She dangled her legs over the edge, gazing down at the Village. The Village Nawaki wanted to protect.

She felt Jiraiya and Orochimaru join her, sitting shoulder to shoulder. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed Orochimaru’s intense reluctance to be around her, but she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to comfort him, nor the ability to ask why. She was grateful, though, that he’d put whatever it was he was feeling aside to join her.

‘It’s a beautiful day,’ Jiraiya said softly, his dark eyes staring at the horizon.

‘Yeah,’ Tsunade murmured. ‘Almost seems like it’s mocking us, right?’

‘Or the universe is merely trying to right a terrible wrong,’ Orochimaru said, his voice raspy with grief.

He felt Jiraiya’s hand in his. On a different day, his heart would have leapt at the feeling of his warm palm enveloping his, but he couldn’t face that sort of feeling at the current moment. He watched as Jiraiya’s other hand took Tsunade’s, his thumb rubbing her knuckles. _Jiraiya really is our rock,_ Orochimaru thought. _Who would have guessed?_

‘I don’t think there’s anything that can set this right,’ Tsunade said, her voice wavering. ‘Unless he could magically come back to life, there’s nothing in the world that can replace him.’

Orochimaru fell silent, tightening his grip around Jiraiya’s roughened hand. _If there is a way to bring him back to you, a way to fix this, I’ll find it_.

‘It might be cliched to say, but Nawaki really is in a better place, now,’ Jiraiya whispered, tilting his head back to look at the clear sky. ‘I mean, he’ll even get to properly meet his old Grandpa, right?’

‘Poor Lord First,’ Orochimaru said, smiling slightly. ‘Having Nawaki chew your ear off is no easy feat, believe me.’

‘You said it,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘Kid never shut up, did he? I remember when I had to tell him to pause for breath when he was going on about being Hokage – he literally went purple.’

Tsunade, to the boys’ joint surprise, started to laugh.

‘I remember that,’ she said breathlessly. ‘And I remember how much he used to bug me for details on Uncle, too. He was so young when he died, he could hardly recall hi,. When he was a little kid, I used to tell him stories about all the amazing things Grandfather and Uncle managed to achieve. He loved it, you know, being a Senju.’

‘And we loved him all the more for it!’ Jiraiya declared. ‘Nawaki’s joy for life was undeniable. He inspired me, you know. His dedication was amazing.’

‘You’re telling me,’ Orochimaru sighed. ‘I swear, he put more work in during our training sessions than Jiraiya has in his life. Not like that’s much of an achievement, though.’

As Jiraiya punched Orochimaru’s arm, outraged, Tsunade laughed again. But then all at once, she was crying. Jiraiya put his arm around her and kept his hand tightly in Orochimaru’s, breathing deeply and clearly trying to keep himself together. Despite the sun, it was cold, and he shivered. He felt Orochimaru move closer to him, linking his arm around his. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jiraiya clutched on to the pair of them for dear life. There was comfort in the moment, in their shared grief.

They weren’t sure how long they sat there, but it was long enough for the sun to sink beneath the horizon. Their breath froze in the air as the temperature dropped, curling together and unfolding against the night sky. They would have many nights like that. Out in the cold, huddled together for warmth, feeling intense grief. The Second Shinobi War was closer than any of them thought possible, and it loomed over them like a monster salivating for blood. They would face it together, as they did most things. They wouldn’t spare a quiet moment for the other, too caught up in the battle for survival and the instinct to look out for each other.

Perhaps they wouldn’t notice, either. They wouldn’t notice that Tsunade started to sneak stronger drinks under the dinner table, out of Mito’s sight, nor the smell of alcohol she sometimes carried around with her. They wouldn’t notice that the bags under Jiraiya’s eyes increased, that he was jumpy, his anxiousness for finding the Child of Prophecy hanging over his shoulder like a dead carcass. They wouldn’t notice that Orochimaru spent every spare moment with his nose in complex scrolls, nor his eagerness to seek out forbidden texts and jutsu that would give even the most seasoned warriors nightmares. They wouldn’t notice because they didn’t have a chance to. War consumes land and lives and thoughts like a plague. They were not ready for the rain, though they were forced to face it. If one thing comforted them, though, as they gazed over Konoha in the dying light, it was that anything they would face, they would face together. Heads held high, shoulders back, hands reaching out ready to catch should the other stumble. Slowly, but surely, they were preparing to show the world why they became known as the Legendary Sannin.

**END OF PART TWO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the end of PART TWO: THE JONIN PROMOTION. I hope you enjoyed it as much and I enjoyed writing it - even if it *was* super depressing at times. Sorry about that. And sorry about how long it took to finish! Life suddenly got the better of me and I had a lot of work to sort out. Speaking of work, I will absolutely reply to your lovely comments (for real thank you so much, they make my day), but I have to be up for work in 6 hours, so I'd best hit the sack! Also, YIKES was this a tricky chapter. After the wholesomeness of last chapter, this was rather like a punch in the face. But hey, at least we all saw it coming.   
> Unless you follow my Tumblr, as cited in the chapter description (it's very bland and boring), I guess you won't be hearing from me until the new year! I'll be taking a fortnight to figure out PART THREE: THE SECOND SHINOBI WAR because boy, is it beefy.   
> Anyway, thank you all for being so wonderful. This is least toxic internet engagement I've ever had - you guys rule! ❤  
> Much love, happy reading, and see you in 2021 for more xo


	25. The Pride of the Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsunade and Orochimaru reach an impasse, Jiraiya is given bad news, and Danzo accelerates his plans. 
> 
> *WARNING* For depictions of terminal illness

**PART THREE: THE SECOND SHINOBI WAR**

Chapter 25 – The Pride of the Village

Date: 49 A.K. (After Konoha)

‘Twenty-three years old, and yet possessing the most astounding medical mind in a generation,’ Mito Uzumaki beamed, ruffling the newspaper she was reading, ‘Tsunade Senju is an integral addition to Konoha’s Hospital, and will surely champion many medical marvels for years to come. Oh, Tsuna, isn’t this wonderful?!’

Tsunade, rather groggily, poured herself another cup of coffee. ‘It was supposed to be a piece on the Hospital’s progress, not an article singing my praises. It doesn’t even mention everything Biwako has done for the last decade, and to be honest, I find it rather insulting that -’

‘– Tsunade, for goodness sake!’ Mito barked, rubbing her temple. ‘Can’t you just be _happy_ about something, for once? There isn’t always a bad side to good occurrences, you know!’

‘I’m just saying,’ Tsunade mumbled, stifling a yawn as she tucked into an omelette. While she had an apartment of her own – thanks to the hefty salary she was receiving as a serving Jonin and as a medical ninja – she would join Mito for breakfast every Monday. It was the highlight of Mito’s week, though she couldn’t help but notice that Tsunade was rarely as keen as she was for their meetups. Or keen for anything, for that matter.

‘Well, I think it’s wonderful news,’ Mito said. ‘I’ll be snipping this article out to stick on the fridge!’

‘I’m not a child, Grandmother,’ Tsunade sighed. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘Perhaps not. But I rather think Nawaki’s drawing is looking rather lonely, don’t you?’ Mito said, glancing over her shoulder at the fridge. There was a single piece of paper pinned up on the door, depicting the poorly-drawn sketch Nawaki had done of Tsunade when she left to face the Inoshishi. He had drawn it for the purpose of a ‘MISSING poster’, as he called it, but Mito had thought it was so charming that she decided to commemorate it.

At the mention of Nawaki’s name, Tsunade’s hand tightened around the mug she was holding. It didn’t escape Mito’s notice. She sighed to herself, picking at her own breakfast.

‘Or maybe I’ll just put in a scrapbook,’ she continued. ‘Either way, my dear, it is a wonderful achievement. The whole Village can’t stop talking about you – whether it’s your medical ability, or your success rate in the field, or your beauty -’

Tsunade snorted, interrupting Mito’s prideful rant. ‘I doubt anyone has been discussing my appearance, Grandmother. And if they have, they ought to do something better with their time, don’t you think? My prowess as a Kunoichi has nothing to do with how I look, the last time I checked.’

‘Yes, but it’s good to take care of yourself, my dear,’ Mito said gently. ‘I’ll not persist with the matter, but both your mother and I were married by the time we were your age. I know you’re busy,’ – she added hastily, when Tsunade threw her a look that could kill a weaker person stone dead – ‘but it doesn’t hurt to keep an eye out. That’s all I’m saying.’

Tsunade scowled at her and prodded at the omelette. ‘You’re only saying that because Jiraiya has a girlfriend.’

‘Does he?’ Mito gasped, doing a terrible job of feigning shock. ‘Why, I had – I had absolutely _no_ idea! What a complete and utter surprise!’

Despite herself, Tsunade smiled at Mito’s complete lack of innocence. ‘Quick work of it, too. He’s only been back from his travels for a fortnight. Personally, I have no clue what the hell Akari Sato sees in him, but he’s giddy as a kid with a school-boy crush.’

‘What, have you seen him since he’s been back?’ Mito asked.

‘Not properly, no,’ Tsunade said. ‘I saw them at that new ramen place when I was passing by. You could tell from a mile off that they’re obsessed with each other. Akari was feeding him radish, would you believe it. It was nauseating.’

Mito raised her eyebrows, eyeing Tsunade slyly. ‘Is that a hint of jealousy I detect in your voice, Tsuna?’

Tsunade’s face flamed. Mito wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or rage. ‘Grandmother, keep saying things like that and you’ll put me off my breakfast.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Mito said, chuckling at Tsunade’s indignant expression. ‘In any case, I’m happy for the boy. His time away from the Village on those travels of his have done him the world of good! I’ve no doubt that he’s grown wiser, more mature.’

Tsunade snorted into her mug. ‘Jiraiya, mature? Those are two words that definitely do not belong together.’

‘Yes, but even you have to admit that he’s gotten rather handsome,’ Mito said affectionately. ‘He’s so tall, now! And those arms of his are the size of tree trunks!’

‘Sheesh,’ Tsunade grimaced. ‘Sure you’re not the one jealous of Akari?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Mito said. ‘I’m just fond of young Jiraiya, that’s all. He’s done so much for us, especially after Nawaki.’

A vein popped in Tsunade’s temple. While it had been seven years since Nawaki’s death, even mentioning his name was enough to elicit an uncomfortable reaction from her. She was working on it, but hearing his name so casually caught her off-guard, more often than not. Mito had a point, though. Jiraiya had been amazing after Nawaki’s passing. He helped them when they moved out of the Mansion, came around nearly every evening to cook dinner for them, and insisted on taking care of Nawaki’s grave whenever Tsunade was out of town. In truth, she was grateful to him.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t seen him yet,’ Mito said, trying to change the subject. ‘Jiraiya, that is. I know he hasn’t been home long, but I would have thought you’d be eager to make the time to see him.’

‘I’ve been inundated with patients and missions, Grandmother, you know that,’ Tsunade grumbled. ‘Besides, it’s not like I’ve seen Orochimaru recently, either. Adult life will do that to you, I guess.’

‘Perhaps. But it’s important to _make_ time for your friends, Tsuna, no matter how fleeting the visit,’ Mito said. ‘Though I admit, pinning dear Orochimaru down these days is like trying to catch smoke.’

Tsunade, rather glumly, slumped her chin in her hand. ‘You’re telling me. That creep Danzo is working him to the bone of late. I haven’t seen him in weeks.’

Mito sighed and lowered her eyes. ‘Do you miss them? The boys?’

‘Everyday,’ Tsunade said, so quietly Mito thought she’d imagined it. She cleared her throat and stood up to clear away her plate. ‘Well, I’d best be off. Sarutobi-sensei wants to see me about Biwako.’

‘Oh, she’s due soon, isn’t she?’ Mito beamed.

‘Yep,’ Tsunade nodded, dumping her plate in the sink and turning on the tap. ‘And even though literally anyone at the Hospital can deliver a baby, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s going to want me to do it.’

‘Well, he wants the best for his wife! And who can blame him?’ Mito smiled. ‘This is his first-born. It’s a big thing, believe me.’

‘Yes, but like I said, it’s not exactly a complicated procedure,’ Tsunade said, reaching for the washing-up sponge. ‘I mean, I delivered Chiharu-sensei’s spawn when I was 15. It’s not rocket science.’

‘Tsunade!’ Mito squawked. ‘You can’t refer to the young Nara boy as ‘spawn’!’

‘What?’ Tsunade pouted. ‘He is! A scrawny little sprog, by all accounts.’

Mito shook her head exasperatedly at her granddaughter, hardly knowing what to say. ‘Honestly, Tsunade. You really are a lost cause.’

*

Jiraiya yawned, scratching his mop of white hair and cracking his back. His bed had gotten too small for him and Benjiro, his father, had yet to replace it. As a result, his feet would stick out the end unless he curled into a weird position, which was absolutely no good for his back. He _had_ , admittedly, thought about staying the night at Akari’s, but it was early days and he didn’t want to pressure her. Sighing, he swung his legs out of bed and stifled another yawn.

Akari was a little bit of a surprise to him, in all honesty. He knew she had at least a little crush on him – he’d never forget how flustered she was before her disastrous attempt to console Tsunade after Komako’s death – but he had to confess that he’d never really dwelled on the idea. It came about almost organically; on his return to Konoha after his travels (which, unfortunately, had not yet yielded any firm results regarding the Child of Prophecy), he had run into her in the bakery. Jiraiya was aware that he’d blossomed since his days of being ‘a snot-nosed little runt’, but he certainly didn’t expect Akari to go so starry-eyed when she gazed up at him. It was quite the compliment. Either way, she had asked him to join her for a bite to eat under the guise of ‘catching up’, and ended the night by planting a kiss on his lips. He kissed her back, slightly ashamed to admit it was his _first_ kiss. Being a pervert wasn’t a huge hit with the ladies, apparently. Either way, he would be lying if he said he didn’t find Akari attractive, but there was just one little problem: she wasn’t Tsunade.

Sighing wearily, Jiraiya rubbed his face with his hands. Was it wrong of him, then, to string Akari along? He hoped that this new ‘relationship’, or whatever it was, might shift any lingering feelings he had for his teammate, but, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel bad about it. Still, it wasn’t like Tsunade was interested in anyone else. According the latest gossip Akari had supplied him with, Tsunade hadn’t batted an eyelash at anyone in the two years he’d been gone. Not that she didn’t have any offers – one would only have to walk past the front door of her apartment to see the copious amounts of bouquets she’d left to wilt on the doorstep. _Maybe if I left her a bouquet, she’d finally get the hint_.

He shook his head roughly. He couldn’t think of such things, not while he was with Akari. _Am I with her, though? We’ve only been on one proper date. It’s not like we’re exclusive._ Guilt slapped him in the face again, and he winced.

‘Jiraiya? You up yet?’ Benjiro’s voice called up the stairs. Jiraiya couldn’t help but smile, for some things never changed – he was still an over-sleeper, and Benjiro still had to holler at him to get out of bed.

‘Sure am, Pa,’ he called back, his voice thick with sleep. ‘Gotta check in with Sarutobi-sensei regarding my travels.’

Benjiro, who had come up the stairs, poked his head around the door. ‘Were you doing some work for him at the same time, then?’

‘Something like that,’ Jiraiya yawned. Hiruzen had, in actual fact, requested that Jiraiya keep an eye on Iwagakure and Sunagakure. Under the guise of research for his books, Jiraiya was able to get access to the countries that would otherwise be sealed off to Konoha Shinobi. Of course, from time to time, he had to make use of his impressive infiltration and espionage skills, but he managed to get around without much difficulty. After Iwagakure’s bold move that resulted in Nawaki’s death, tensions between Konoha and Iwagakure were at their absolute highest. Plus, Sunagakure seemed to be making suspicious movements around the border. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that _something_ ominous was brewing on the horizon, and Jiraiya didn’t like it. 

Benjiro regarded his overgrown son with an odd expression, caught somewhere between pride and nostalgia. Jiraiya looked up at him and frowned.

‘What’s with the weird expression?’ he asked.

Benjiro shook himself out of his musings, and offered a tired smile. ‘Oh, nothing much, my boy. It’s just nice to have you home. Two years is a hefty absence, if I do say so myself.’

‘Well, needs must,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘I’ve been pretty preoccupied, Pa. If I’m not at Myoboku, I’m on the road – and if I’m not on the road, I’m doing recon for Sarutobi-sensei. Not much time to rest at the homestead, you know.’

‘I know,’ Benjiro said. ‘You did good, son. Never would have guessed you’d rise so high with your abysmal Academy grades.’

Jiraiya scowled at his father, and shuffled around his room in search of something to wear. As much as he enjoying lounging around in his pyjamas, turning up to see his Sensei in person after two years was not good form.

‘You won’t have to go away for long any time soon, will you?’ Benjiro said, his voice a little smaller. To the untrained ear, one might not notice it. But Jiraiya knew his father well enough to notice the subtle changes. He looked at him, and it suddenly struck him how old Benjiro was beginning to appear.

‘Beats me,’ Jiraiya said, trying to keep things light-hearted. ‘Really depends what Sarutobi-sensei requires of me. I mean, _I’m_ not planning on taking another trip for a few months yet. Gotta recover a little first.’

Benjiro looked worriedly at Jiraiya, nibbling his lip. It was no secret that Jiraiya had practically dragged himself back to Konoha, beaten black and blue, and was currently dealing with a slipped disc that made his back spasm with pain.

‘You really ought to pay a visit to the Hospital, you know,’ he said. ‘Pain medication is all well and good, but you’ll need proper exercises if you’re going to heal properly.’

‘You know me,’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘I have a very high pain threshold.’

‘Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean you should stop taking care of yourself.’

‘Pa, I’m 23 years old. I _know_ how to take care of myself.’

Benjiro sighed heavily. There was very little point in trying to argue with his son, but it didn’t mean he automatically stopped worrying.

‘You know,’ he continued, trying a different tactic, ‘if you _did_ go to the Hospital, I bet you’d run into Tsunade. You haven’t seen her since you’ve been home, right?’

Jiraiya, who winced slightly as he straightened out his back, shrugged. ‘I’ll see her when I see her. She’s probably busy. Wouldn’t want me springing up on her.’

Benjiro frowned. That certainly wasn’t the response he was expecting. ‘Did something happen?’

‘Huh?’ Jiraiya said.

‘Between you and Tsunade,’ Benjiro replied. ‘I would have thought that seeing her and Orochimaru would be the first thing on your agenda.’

Jiraiya pouted, pulling on a pair of socks. ‘Well, I tried sending them both letters when I was away, but Oro only responded once, and Tsu not at all. I kind of figured they’d just forgotten about me. If they’re not putting in the effort, why should I?’

‘To be fair to them, they’re exceptionally busy,’ Benjiro said carefully. ‘Orochimaru is hardly in the Village as it is, always doing errands for Lord Danzo, while Tsunade is practically running the Hospital _and_ maintaining the Senju estate. There’s never a moment that girl isn’t rushed off her feet these days.’

‘The Senju estate? You mean the Mansion?’ Jiraiya replied. When Benjiro nodded, he frowned. ‘I thought Sarutobi-sensei and Biwako lived there now, right? After Nawaki…’ he trailed off, swallowing thickly. Seeing Nawaki’s broken body cradled in Orochimaru’s arms still haunted his dreams.

‘Well, technically speaking, the whole Village belongs to the Senjus. And the Uchihas, really, though I guess Lord Second overturned that little chestnut,’ Benjiro said. ‘But while Lord Third does maintain the Mansion, for obvious reasons, Tsunade still takes responsibility for much of the upkeep of the Village’s facilities, as well as its finances. Of course, the Council is there to handle the weighty decisions, but Lord Third has delegated some of the tasks to Tsunade herself. I suppose he thinks it’s her birthright.’

Jiraiya smiled slightly. ‘I reckon she doesn’t mind the extra work. Always did love the Village.’

‘Precisely. You can’t blame your friends for not staying in touch when there’s so much on their plates, Jiraiya,’ Benjiro said sternly. ‘What you _can_ do is make the time to see them both now you’re back. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? A reunion?’

Jiraiya sighed to himself, finally deciding on an outfit and tugging the clothes from the wardrobe. ‘Yeah, yeah. I _suppose_ I can forgive them for not writing me. But only if they’re extra nice.’

Benjiro chuckled. ‘Those two, being nice? You’ll be waiting a long time, my boy.’

Jiraiya scowled and headed to the door for want of the bathroom. Before he left, however, Benjiro caught his arm. His grip was weaker than it once had been.

‘Jiraiya,’ Benjiro said, his expression changing, ‘don’t be back too late tonight, alright?’

‘You’re giving me a curfew?’ Jiraiya spluttered.

‘No, nothing like that,’ Benjiro said. ‘It’s just…I need to talk to you about something. And it might take a while. I know you’ll probably want to go and hang out with that girl again, but if you could spare me one evening, I’d appreciate it.’

Jiraiya frowned, but nodded. It wasn’t like his father to want to have a serious discussion. The last time was when he’d been caught trying to sneak a look in the bathhouse – not that the conversation changed his habits, mind you. Feeling the beginnings of trepidation, Jiraiya carried on with his morning routine.

*

For Orochimaru, the morning brought with it a renewed sense of anxiety. Every new order he received from Danzo filled him with anxiety, but should he refuse, the secret regarding his parents’ death would be lost forever. Feeling numb, he poured himself a cup of tea, the steam rising up and settling against his new headband. He had been officially welcomed as a member of Root a few months back, just shy of his 23rd birthday, and had been issued a new uniform to suit the esteemed rank. With it was a brand-new forehead protector. Despite the fact he’d only worn it on a few missions, it was already scuffed and damaged, for the heft of his missions was a great burden to endure.

He sighed to himself, blowing on the tea. His life had become a simple yet bloody undertaking: wake up, receive orders, carry out his missions, try and fail to fall asleep. That was it. He couldn’t help but think that all the brightness in his life departed the same moment Jiraiya left on his travels. Without him, as it had happened before when they were Chuunin, he and Tsunade started to drift apart. He hardly saw her, between his commitments and her own, and when he did, it was awkward, like there was something heavy and unsaid gnawing on the empty space between them. He knew what that something was. But he dared not say it aloud. _Nawaki. I let him die._

He got up suddenly, as though something had electrocuted him. Dwelling on Nawaki was never a good idea, least of all when the boy’s mangled body appeared more often than he’d like to admit; when he was washing up the dishes, he would see his little face in the water, wide-eyed and unsuspecting. When he prepared himself to meet Danzo, his eyes would flash for a second in the reflection of his headband. When he ran to and from missions, the wind stinging his eyes, the shadows of the trees and the leaves against the ground would spell out his figure, small and broken and jutting out at the wrong angles. And when he slept, all he dreamt of was him – his eagerness, his joy, his complete unawareness as the boulder descended upon him. If he didn’t jerk awake then, the boulder would twist into the bodies of his parents, pale and unseeing. He could never roll over and sleep after seeing that.

He had tried talking to Sakumo Hatake – one of the few he counted as a friend - about it, once. He wanted to know if he was going mad. With grief or with guilt, he did not know. Sakumo had looked at him solemnly, put a steady hand on his shoulder, and said _kid, if you were sane after everything you’ve seen, I’d question if you were human at all._ The response didn’t help him. Nothing helped him. In fact, he suspected, the only thing that _would_ help him was talking it out with Tsunade herself. While Jiraiya had assured him that she didn’t blame him – and, truly, he preyed she did not – it wasn’t enough to satiate his worry. Because he hadn’t forgotten what she’d said. Knee-jerk reaction or not, her words rang in his mind more often than he liked to admit: _You were supposed to be looking out for him! You promised me!_

He had promised her. He’d promised himself, too. But he failed. It was a foreign concept to him – failure, that is – and it stung like knife wound. He found the only was to soothe it was by keeping himself busy. Even as he sipped at his morning tea, a scroll was lying open on the kitchen table set for one. He had been reading it avidly every spare moment he got. It was a rather basic form of regeneration jutsu, the sort of medical ninjutsu the First Hokage was adept it, but it was a decent start. If Orochimaru was going to acquire what he really wanted, he had to start from the very beginning.

As he picked up his teacup to place in the sink for another time, he eyed caught sight of two of his most prized possessions. One was his team photo, fading slightly with exposure to sunlight. He set the teacup down and went over to it, tracing his finger nails over the glass. _This needs a dust. Whole place does, really._ Low in mood though he was, seeing Jiraiya and Tsunade look so gleefully cheerful brought a tiny smile to his lips. His younger self wasn’t smiling, which was very on brand for him, but he could see the fondness in his own eyes. Even then, he couldn’t hide the joy he felt at finally having a family. Next to the photo was the snake skin he’d found at his parents’ grave, right after he’d beaten Fumihiro to a pulp, and Hiruzen had gone to talk to him. He didn’t want to take it out of its display case for fear of breaking its fragile structure, but looking at it gave him an odd feeling of hope. If a snake could regenerate by shedding its skin, the same logic could be applied to other living creatures. Or even the dead.

Orochimaru started when he noticed the time. He had no idea how long he had stood there, gazing forlornly at the few possessions he would guard with his life, and cursed under his breath. Hiruzen had asked to see him before he reported to Danzo, which meant he only had 10 minutes to race to the Mansion, before descending the winding stairs to Root. He wished Hiruzen had picked a more suitable time – he knew how busy he was with his duties – but part of him found it moving that Hiruzen liked to touch base with him. Every fortnight, if Orochimaru was in Konoha, the Hokage would request to see him solely so they could have a catch-up. Orochimaru supposed Hiruzen liked to keep an eye on his progress, especially under Danzo. It didn’t take a genius to realise that Hiruzen had started to trust Danzo less and less, as the years went on, and likely didn’t want his precious student to fester under Danzo’s thumb. Either way, Orochimaru was late, and neither Hiruzen nor Danzo would tolerate tardiness. With one last glance at the photo, Orochimaru bolted out the door.

*

Tsunade greeted the two Shinobi stationed outside the Mansion with a polite nod, and they beamed back, as though overjoyed to have exchanged a hello with her. Tsunade found such adoration slightly uncomfortable, if she was being honest with herself. It was true that she had done much for the Village in the seven years after Nawaki’s passing – partly as a distraction, and partly because she knew how important Konoha was to her brother – but she doubted it warranted such respect from the villagers and Shinobi populace alike. If anything, she felt like she needed something to bring her back down to earth. _You’re not that special,_ she said to herself, as she climbed the stairs to Hiruzen’s office, _if you were, you wouldn’t be the only Senju left, would you? You’d have done more to save them._

Shaking herself out of that negative thought process, Tsunade cleared her throat as she went along the corridor. There was no point in dwelling on the past, no matter how frequently she woke up in the night, gasping for breath, the images of Komako and Nawaki’s dead bodies plaguing her dreams. Though she would rather die than admit it, part of the reason she was so eager to get her own place was so she didn’t wake Mito with her restlessness. Sleep was something Tsunade could do without, given her age, but Mito wasn’t as young as she once was. She couldn’t have her own sleep disturbed by the sound of Tsunade pacing her room to calm herself down.

There was a surprise waiting for Tsunade as she reached Hiruzen’s office door. Orochimaru was skulking in the shadows, loitering until Hiruzen finished up inside and granted him entry, and he was looking endearingly awkward.

‘You’re looking very prim and proper, huh?’ Tsunade smirked, approaching him. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his new uniform, his back ramrod straight and his arms folded across his chest.

‘And you look a sight,’ Orochimaru replied, raising his eyebrows. ‘Not sleeping well, I gather?’ He was referring to the shadows under her eyes, and she pouted at him, suddenly looking the age she was in his photograph.

‘You’re one to talk,’ she said. ‘Paler than usual, I think. Sure you haven’t got an iron deficiency?’

‘You’d know, wouldn’t you?’ Orochimaru replied. ‘After all, it’s always _you_ who insists on treating me if I’m injured.’ 

‘Well, forgive me for caring,’ Tsunade shrugged. ‘I’ll pass you off to one of the students in future.’

Orochimaru smiled at her for the first time in what felt like months. ‘It’s good to see you, Tsunade. It’s been too long.’

‘You’re telling me,’ she said softly. ‘Only this morning were Grandmother and I talking about you. But you’re a difficult man to find when you want to be, you know?’

‘I haven’t been hiding anywhere,’ Orochimaru said.

‘No?’ Tsunade challenged. ‘Guess you’ve just been avoiding me, then.’

Orochimaru swallowed thickly, not quite looking her in the eye. He wondered when it had gotten to the point where he could hardly exchange two words with her without feeling the beginnings of guilt. It had been so easy when they were younger. Nothing mattered, back then. Conversations were light and easy-going, important to them at the time, but insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He supposed they’d grown too much to revert back to that laidback era, to the time of the sun warming their skin as they sat on the grassy banks of the river. Too much had changed to ever go back.

‘You okay there?’ Tsunade said, cocking her head to one side. Orochimaru realised, with a slight jolt, that he hadn’t replied to her for several moments. He let out a long sigh.

‘I’m fine, Tsunade. Just fine.’

‘You know, for a sneaky ANBU member, you’re a terrible liar,’ she said.

_How wrong you are, Tsunade,_ Orochimaru thought to himself. If he was a bad liar, he’d have come clean about his deal with Danzo a long, long time ago. Tsunade didn’t even know he was part of Root as opposed to the normal, Hokage-centric ANBU faction. If she did, he was certain she’d have more than a few words to say about it. She didn’t like Danzo – never had, by all accounts – and since he was almost always accompanied by Taichi Senju, her estranged father, she liked him even less. For her to find out her dear friend was locked in a deadly deal with Danzo, would likely spell nasty consequences. Orochimaru wasn’t afraid of her, as such, but he was afraid of losing her friendship. _If I can still call it that._

‘Sheesh, what is with you today? Anyone home?’ Tsunade frowned, lightly knocking on his forehead.

Orochimaru edged away from her, centralising his forehead protector after Tsunade’s gesture had pushed it slightly to the left. ‘I merely have a lot on mind. I’m sure you can relate to that – after all, not a day goes by when you aren’t running around doing some job or another.’

‘I like to keep myself busy,’ Tsunade said.

‘Yes, but it’s not like you need the money,’ Orochimaru said, bitterness creeping into his tone. He regretted sounding acrimonious the moment he opened his mouth, but he could hardly help it. Wealth was something he never had growing up.

‘What do you mean?’ she said, a slight edge to her voice.

Orochimaru could almost sense Tsunade’s back go up, but he went ahead anyway. ‘You received your huge inheritance when you turned 18, did you not?’

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to laze around doing nothing just because I can. Grandfather’s money is all well and good, but I didn’t go through years of gruelling training to get fat off someone else’s wealth.’

‘Well, at least it gives you the means to fuel your bad habits,’ Orochimaru said.

Tsunade’s eyebrow twitched. ‘If you’re talking about the other day, it was a onetime thing – and, come to think of it, none of your damn business.’

Orochimaru found himself growing hot in the face from an unexpected flare of anger. The whole exchange between them had been thoroughly forced, but at least it was tolerable. Listening to her tell a blatant lie, however, had rather twisted the mood.

‘And you call me a bad liar,’ Orochimaru sneered, his lip curling in repulsion.

Tsunade made a sudden movement as if to grab at his collar, but pulled back. He could see the visible effort that went into such a simple gesture of not using her fists to solve problems, but before he could comment, they were interrupted.

‘Well, this is a sight for sore eyes!’ a familiar and very welcomed voice boomed. ‘But isn’t it usually me Tsunade is thinking of throttling? Stay in your lane, Oro!’

Stunned, Orochimaru and Tsunade took a moment to process who was stood before them, after two long years. Jiraiya was beaming at them, standing at 6ft 3, give or take a few inches for his hair, his arms wide as if to scoop them both up in a bone-breaking embrace.

‘J-Jiraiya?’ Orochimaru choked out, recovering faster than Tsunade.

‘Quit looking like you’ve seen a ghost and gimmie a hug already!’ Jiraiya said. ‘I haven’t been gone for _that_ long, you know?’

Orochimaru didn’t move, still too shocked. He heard that Jiraiya had made his grand return, but he hadn’t actually seen him since watching him leave through the gates, on the morning of his 21st birthday. The letters Jiraiya had sent sat in his desk drawer, and he realised, with another whack of guilt, that he never wrote back.

Jiraiya dropped his arms, sensing that he’d interrupted something. Even if Orochimaru _was_ the sort of person to eagerly embrace another, one would have to be an idiot to not notice the tension pulsing in the air. His eyes swivelled to Tsunade, noting her clenched fists and set jaw. _What the heck did I just walk in on?_

‘Well, I gotta say,’ Jiraiya said, rubbing the back of his neck, ‘this isn’t exactly the warm reception I was picturing when I saw you guys.’

‘I’m sorry, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said, finally breaking the strained silence. ‘Of course, it’s wonderful to see you again.’ He made to move and hug him, but stopped short. Jiraiya, for all his immaturity and perverted tendencies, had finally blossomed. He was very easy on the eye, broad-shouldered, and altogether charming, if one could believe it. He still had that openness about him – the sort that made people want to root for him – but the soft edges of teenage awkwardness had long since worn away. He had really come into his own. And, because of that, Orochimaru was suddenly feeling rather hot under the collar. He looked between Jiraiya and Tsunade, a horrible thought dawning on him: _wait…does this make me the ugly one?!_

‘Wow…Jiraiya, you’ve – I mean – you’ve grown up, huh?’ Tsunade said, apparently a bit lost for words. She had only really seen his side profile when she spotted him and Akari at the ramen place (Ichiraku, which had opened 2 years previously), and therefore hadn’t seen how much he’d changed.

Jiraiya grinned cheesily and flexed his bicep. ‘Well, it _has_ been a while, right? I’m bound to have piled on the muscles! You look pretty much the same, though! Which is a good thing, of course.’ He winked, and his eyes travelled downwards to land on her chest. Tsunade’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.

‘My mistake,’ she muttered. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’

‘And Oro,’ Jiraiya grinned, ignoring her comment, ‘ _you_ might have grown a little taller, huh? Still shorter than me, though!’

Orochimaru grimaced as Jiraiya gleefully compared their height difference. Orochimaru was about 5ft 8, so Jiraiya had several inches on him. Enough for Orochimaru to tilt his head up when he was looking in his eyes, at any rate. Tsunade, meanwhile, hadn’t grown upwards since she was 16. It was a wonder her small stature held her temper.

‘I gotta admit, I’m surprised,’ Jiraiya continued, sizing them both up.

‘About what?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘That you guys made zero attempts to come and see me!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘I mean, you must have heard I was home! I wasn’t expecting a red carpet, but a house call would have been nice.’ He said the last part rather sadly, and Orochimaru felt guilty all over again.

‘I _did_ see you,’ Tsunade grumbled. ‘But I didn’t want to interrupt. Especially when you seemed so happy about being hand-fed radish.’

‘I’m sorry, what?’ Orochimaru snorted, as Jiraiya went bright red.

‘I – she was just – wait, when did you even see that?’ he spluttered.

‘Hold on, I’m very lost,’ Orochimaru said.

A devilish smirk spread over Tsunade’s face. Ignoring the silent plea in Jiraiya’s eyes, she cleared her throat, looking quite pleased with herself. ‘Oh, nothing much. Just, you know, I was innocently going about my evening when I stumbled upon the most _nauseating_ sight I think I’ve ever been privy to -’

‘ – oh, come on!’ Jiraiya squawked. ‘It wasn’t that bad!’

‘ _You_ weren’t the innocent bystander though, were you, Jiraiya?’ Tsunade said, grinning deviously all the while. ‘Anyway, as I said, I was just going about my business, when I spotted our old pal Jiraiya here!’

For the sake of drama, Tsunade clapped him on the back. ‘And of course, I _was_ going to say hello and all that, but I felt I’d be…interrupting, shall we say.’

‘You’re making this sound way worse than it actually was, you over-dramatic Princess,’ Jiraiya scowled, as Orochimaru looked on in utter confusion.

‘Don’t call me that,’ Tsunade said, before seamlessly continuing with her story. ‘As I was saying, I _was_ going greet our old pal after so long, but he was indisposed – being tenderly fed radish from Akari’s own hand, of all things.’

‘She used chopsticks!’ Jiraiya retorted, outraged.

‘Same sentiment applies,’ Tsunade smirked. ‘It was so lovey-dovey and gross, Oro, that I nearly brought up my dinner. Honestly, in a public place, too! It would have been better if he didn’t look so simperingly love-struck, but alas -’

‘ - shut up already,’ Jiraiya scowled. ‘You’re just jealous because you’re gonna end up as a sour old spinster!’

‘Rather that than whatever it was you were doing,’ Tsunade shot back, grinning.

Orochimaru’s eyebrows were knitting together, and he looked thoroughly bewildered. ‘You mean…Jiraiya and Akari…’

‘It was only _one_ date!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘And what was I supposed to do? Turn down perfectly good radish?’

‘And spare us unfortunate onlookers such a hideous display? It’s a no brainer,’ Tsunade said.

Poor Jiraiya was very flustered, caught half-way between annoyance as Tsunade’s dramatic rendition and genuine embarrassment about being seen. Despite Tsunade’s assertion, it really wasn’t the worst thing in the world – though, if he’d known she was observing them, he would have point-blank refused. He just thought that was what couples did on a date, you know? Nice, sickly-sweet things that boasted to the other patrons of your relationship. It was for show. Nothing more, nothing less.

‘Anyway,’ Jiraiya scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, ‘what exactly are you two doing here?’

‘Waiting for Sarutobi-sensei,’ Tsunade said, glancing at her watch impatiently. ‘Though he’s really taking his time. Honestly, it’s as if he doesn’t realise we have lives to be getting on with half the time, and -’

As if on cue, the office door swung open to reveal Hiruzen beaming at his students. The pride of the Village though they were, sometimes, Hiruzen rather thought they hadn’t changed at all – especially judging by their current expressions; Tsunade looked rather bashful about bad-mouthing him, Jiraiya seemed mortified, and Orochimaru, as it happened rather often, was totally perplexed by everything going on around him.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ Hiruzen said, his eyes gleaming with humour, ‘but I was rather enjoying Tsunade’s story!’

Jiraiya, for what felt like the millionth time that day, turned scarlet.

Call him a sentimental old fool, but Hiruzen knew what he was doing. Trying to catch the three of them together, in the same place at the same time, was as rare as gold dust. But as Shinobi of Konoha, they were under oath to respond to his summons. It wasn’t difficult to order them to his office around the same time. Smiling secretively to himself, Hiruzen welcomed them inside. For the first time in a while, he was feeling content. The soon-to-be Legendary Sannin had that effect, but all accounts; when one was around them, they couldn’t help but feel safe. 

*

Danzo sipped from his teacup, his eyes closed peacefully. It was rare that he got a moment to himself, so he relished it. Times had been changing, and with that came busyness, a sense of frantic organisation that often kept him tied up. Forming Root had taken much of his energy, and while he was proud of it, the responsibility was a challenge. Still, he had reliable underlings – one of whom was knocking on his office door. Sighing, Danzo lowered the cup.

‘Come in, Orochimaru,’ he called, his voice dry.

However, the man who stooped into the darkened office was not his most promising member. Looking older, the weight of his banishment from his family clearly aging him faster, Taichi Senju looked upon Orochimaru sternly, his scarred face furrowed in a frown.

‘Expecting someone else?’ he said gruffly.

‘I would have suspected that much was obvious, given my proclamation,’ Danzo said. ‘It isn’t like Orochimaru to be late. I assume Hiruzen has him in his clutches.’

‘That can’t be a good thing,’ Taichi said.

Danzo chuckled, shaking his head. ‘Hiruzen is far too weak and sentimental to prise any secrets from his precious student. Besides, Orochimaru is not one to break so easily. You and he have that in common.’

Taichi bristled. ‘I have nothing in common with that child.’

‘He is hardly a child anymore,’ Danzo replied, his hand gesturing over the papers on his floor desk. ‘His numbers are the most impressive in our ranks. Even more so than you, old friend. Slacking a bit, are we?’

Taichi’s jaw tensed. ‘My mind has been preoccupied.’

‘If you’re talking about your son, then you need to cut the mawkishness,’ Danzo spat. ‘I’ve agreed to be lenient with you, Taichi, but it’s been seven years.’

‘There is no time limit to mourning,’ Taichi muttered.

Danzo raised his eyebrows. ‘I must say, I’m surprised at you. I was under the impression that you didn’t care for the boy.’

Taichi slammed his fist on the table, knocking Danzo’s teacup to the floor with a shatter. Danzo merely blinked at him, not at all fazed.

‘He was still Senju,’ Taichi grunted. ‘Still a small piece of Komako. Still…my son.’

‘The same son who you mercilessly pressured to the point of mistreatment, you mean?’

‘Do not talk to me about parenting methods when you yourself are not one,’ Danzo hissed.

‘That is not what I’d call a parenting technique,’ Danzo scoffed.

‘Your father was as harsh towards you, was he not?’

Danzo pressed his lips together. ‘He was harsh to everyone. The Shimura reign over the Academy spelled nasty results – you being a product of it, come to think of it. But it matters not. It is in the past. As is Nawaki.’

Taichi gritted his teeth together. _Nawaki_. He was not a sentimental man, nor one to dwell on his failings, but to say he felt nothing when his son died is false. Taichi was not an unfeeling monster, despite how he presented himself. He had loved many times, and lost just as many. Nawaki was another name on the lengthy, morbid list scored on his soul. Another piece of him, shattered. And the years since the boy’s death had not been easy for Taichi – his performance at the funeral had been shameful, he knew that, and had destroyed any hopes of reconciliation with his daughter and mother-in-law. He was cast out. Hiruzen had even expelled him from the Council. It was under the guise of ‘compassionate leave’, but everyone knew the truth; he was about as welcome in Konoha as dry rot. Tsunade’s sudden popularity didn’t help. The villagers adored their sheltered Princess, and saw he as the vicious troll lurking under the bridge. Regardless, Taichi held his place by Danzo’s side, as decided after Komako’s death. _Komako…Nawaki…both worthlessly dead for the sake of this Village._

‘What do you want, Taichi?’ Danzo said, crossing his legs. ‘I’ve not summoned you. You’re not even on active duty.’

Lowering himself to the floor in front of Danzo, Taichi folded his hands under his chin. ‘I’ve had much time to think, as you can imagine. Being away from Tsuna and Mito has rather freed my mind, shall we say. Given me time to refocus on what is important to me.’

‘And that isn’t your own family, I gather?’ Danzo sneered.

‘They cast me aside,’ Taichi muttered. ‘Tsuna and Mito might be alive, but as far as I’m concerned, I do not have any living relatives left. Komako and Nawaki are gone. They’re not coming back. I…must move forward.’

‘Well, I won’t lie and say I’m not shocked,’ Danzo said. ‘I thought you’d rather lost your fire, Taichi. You’ve been moping about Root like nobody’s business of late.’

‘Were you thinking of cutting me loose?’ Taichi said, a dangerous edge to his voice that Danzo didn’t miss.

‘Hardly,’ Danzo said. ‘You’re a valuable ally to me, Taichi. We established that long ago, did we not? I would be foolish to rid myself of you when you can still be useful.’

‘I am not your pawn,’ Taichi growled.

‘No, you’re not,’ Danzo agreed. ‘You’re a far more powerful piece. One that could do away with the King.’

Taichi eyed Danzo carefully, regarding him with a cool stare. ‘You’re talking about the Hokage, aren’t you?’

A nasty smile spread over Danzo’s face. His looks were dwindling more and more by the day, as if his malicious and treacherous thoughts were warping his outward appearance. ‘Many people debate who ‘the King’ is, but make no mistake – the one running the show is Hiruzen, at least in my opinion. And his bumbling ineptitude has cost you and your family severely, wouldn’t you agree?’

Taichi swallowed thickly. He would never forget his conversation with Danzo after Komako’s death. Looking back, he supposed it might have been point-blank manipulation, since Danzo had taken advantage of a grieving man, but he spoke true. Had Hiruzen acted with haste and greater strength, Komako would have been spared. As for Nawaki, Danzo had already made the case that Hiruzen should have dealt with the Iwagakure Shinobi near the border sooner, but he let them roam free, fearing hostility towards them would trigger an all-out war. If he had been more decisive, they could have crushed them before that boulder crushed Nawaki to death. The facts were plain. Hiruzen was floundering for want of peace. 

‘I already agreed with you, long ago, that Hiruzen is not fit to lead Konoha,’ Taichi said stiffly. ‘And yet still, nothing has been done about it. I know you’re a cautious man, clinging to the shadows for fear of being exposed as the treacherous snake you are, but you’ve been speculating your discontent for well over a decade, Danzo. Longer, even. What do you have to show for it?’

Danzo pressed his lips together, trying to contain his anger. ‘A fully-fledged ANBU faction that serves _me,_ not the Hokage, for starters. And what, do you truly believe Kagami Uchiha’s death was accidental? I’ve not been idle, Taichi. I’ve been careful. Biding me time.’

‘You’re really claiming Kagami’s demise as your doing?’ Taichi scoffed.

Danzo, very slowly, reached for something under his desk. Wordlessly, his hand clasped around a jar, which he pushed across the table’s surface. As it crept into the light, Taichi’s mouth parted in shock. Suspended in a clear liquid were two Sharingan, their optical nerves still miraculously intact. He stared at them and they stared back, bobbing slightly in the liquid as Danzo lent against the table.

‘Kagami was getting too powerful as a Council member,’ Danzo said, his voice low. ‘I did not kill him myself, so as not to leave a trace, but it was simple to make his death look like an accident. A slip-up. A mistake.’

‘And the Sharingan? Why take them?’ Taichi murmured.

Danzo smiled darkly. ‘Leaving such a powerful weapon to rot away seems a great waste. There is much we can do with them, I suspect. I don’t suppose you remember that woman from the Inoshishi?’

Taichi tore his eyes away from the severed Sharingan. ‘The one who killed me wife? As if I’d forget her. Miki Fugiwara.’

‘Indeed,’ Danzo nodded. ‘Well, she and that medical ninja of hers have been in custody ever since Sakumo Hatake brought them back to Konoha. We all saw Fugiwara’s ability to use Fumihiro Hyuga’s Byakugan, even though it had been transplanted into her and she is not of Hyuga lineage. According to Orochimaru, she was skilled with it. There is much to learn from our enemies. Under the right circumstances, I might be able to wield these Sharingan myself. And, what with Orochimaru’s odd fascination with research into collecting jutsu, I can easily use his knowledge to my advantage.’

‘What, so you organised for Kagami to die just for his Sharingan?’ Taichi replied.

‘Nothing is so black and white,’ Danzo said, placing the jar out of sight. ‘As I said, Kagami was becoming too powerful. His word held weight and could easily sway the other members one way or another. Unfortunately, the man was an avid supporter of the Hokage, despite the mistreatment of his Clan.’

‘Everyone always says that Kagami is the one Uchiha Tobirama trusted,’ Taichi nodded.

‘Exactly,’ Danzo continued. ‘He loved Konoha and believed the Hokage to have its best interests at heart. But you see, with him gone, the Council grows easier to manipulate. While Lady Uzumaki’s iron will is of great irritation, I shan’t touch her out of respect for Hashirama-sensei and Tobirama-sensei. Not to mention that we’d then have to deal with the Kyuubi in the event of her death. As for Koharu and Homura, they will come around in time. I’ve planted the seed of doubt in their minds regarding Hiruzen. All it needs to do now, is grow.’

‘It won’t be that easy,’ Taichi said. ‘They are his teammates. Loyal to the end – or so they ought to be.’

‘You give them too much credit,’ Danzo said coolly. ‘They’ve seen how Hiruzen’s passivity results in disaster. Kagero Village is just one example of many. Koharu and Homura are not blind, Taichi, nor are they stupid. With a little pressure, they might give way.’

‘And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?’

Danzo went to sip from his teacup, before remembering that it lay shattered on the floor. ‘It’s simple, really. We need to unseat Hiruzen. We’ve known this since the moment of our partnership. And now, with war on the horizon once more, it is the perfect opportunity to expose him for the irresolute, submissive fool he is.’

Taichi nodded slowly, absorbing his words. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘I _always_ have a plan,’ Danzo said, his eyes gleaming. ‘Though it involves you, Taichi. That is why I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses.’

‘Me?’ Taichi said. ‘What could I do? I’ve been expelled from the Council and rejected from my own family. How could I be of use to you?’

‘You are the only one I whole-heartedly trust,’ Danzo said seriously. ‘You’ve shown your resolve time and time again, as well as your loyalty. After all, you’ve known of my desires for years, and you’ve never once betrayed me.’

‘And keeping my mouth shut is enough to warrant trust?’

‘Again, nothing is so black and white,’ Danzo repeated. ‘The fact is that _you_ disapprove of Hiruzen as much as I. There can be no bad blood between those who share the same goal. I’ll not pretend to know your mind, but I’m certain, in some capacity, you want the same thing I do.’

Taichi clenched his fists. ‘I want him to own up to Komako and Nawaki’s deaths. _You_ want him gone. For good. I’d hardly call that ‘the same’.’

Danzo smirked. ‘Well, perhaps not exactly the same. But there must be a reason you’ve stayed by my side for all the years. Joined Root. Helped me establish it, even. And to me, it’s simple enough – you want _revenge._ What sweeter revenge can there be, other than taking away the most precious thing to Hiruzen in all the world?’

‘That being…?’

‘His title,’ Danzo said. ‘His title and all it represents. Hiruzen adores this Village, its people, its values. Everything. It belonged to his sensei, it shelters his family, and it nurtures his precious ‘children’, as he calls them. Now, the last thing I want is to see Konoha blown off the map. The next best thing is removing him from his role as the Hokage.’

Taichi smirked. ‘And you speak of me wanting revenge. This sounds rather personal, Danzo.’

‘It _is_ personal,’ Danzo muttered. ‘Hiruzen is running Konoha into the ground. His reluctance to destroy our enemies reeks of weakness, and breeds even more danger towards us. For if we do not show our strength, more will come to challenge it. If we keep shying away from war, we will lose control. If Hiruzen keeps clinging to his passivity, Konoha will fall. That, to me, _is_ black and white. We need strength. And he is not the man to boast it. _I_ am.’

Sarcastically, Taichi let out a low whistle. ‘That was quite the speech, Danzo. Visualising your inauguration, or something?’

Danzo chuckled dryly. ‘Perhaps. But I do not matter. What matters, now, is that we make our move.’

‘How far will you take this?’ Taichi said, a note of uncharacteristic hesitation in his tone.

Brow furrowed, Danzo stared directly into Taichi’s eyes. ‘As far as it needs to go. If Hiruzen has to die, then so be it.’

*

Jiraiya ducked through the front door his house, kicking his shoes off with a scowl. After his meeting with Hiruzen, he had cheerfully suggested to Tsunade and Orochimaru that they have a catch-up at a bar, since it had been so long. Tsunade dismissed him with a terse _I can’t go drinking in the middle of the day, idiot_ (oh, how times would change), and Orochimaru had rather grimly proclaimed _I’m late enough for my meeting with Lord Danzo - I can’t keep him waiting any longer._ Neither of them offered another time, so, Jiraiya didn’t either. Roughly, he dumped his shoes into the cupboard with a huff.

‘What have those poor shoes ever done to you?’ Benjiro said, appearing in the porch.

‘It’s not them,’ Jiraiya muttered. ‘It’s Oro and Tsu. I saw them at the Mansion, and Gods, it’s like they weren’t even happy to see me! It’s been two years, and I didn’t even get a hug!’

Benjiro patted his shoulder sympathetically. ‘Well, I’d hardly call either of those two a hugger. And it might be for the best – it gives us a chance to talk a little.’

Jiraiya suddenly remembered what his father had said that morning. ‘Oh, yeah. What’s this about, then?’

Benjiro swallowed thickly. ‘Come inside properly, Jiraiya. Sit down.’

Jiraiya immediately felt tense. Being told to ‘sit down’ never bode well, under any circumstance. He followed Benjiro into the small kitchen, and sat down heavily at the table. He remembered when he’d returned from the Land of Mountains, having faced off against the Inoshishi, and saw Komako die. He remembered how he’d broken down, at that very table, and sobbed into his father’s chest. He shuddered to himself. Even years on, the memory still haunted him. The Benjiro sat opposite him, now, looked older. Thinner. Paler.

‘Pa…’ Jiraiya said, his voice soft. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Benjiro could hardly look his son in the eye. He took a deep breath. ‘It’s just…you’ve been gone a long time, Jiraiya. Even before your two-year trip, you were always in and out of the Village, doing one mission or another. And please, don’t get me wrong, I’m exceptionally proud of you – but it doesn’t exactly give you the time to have a sit-down with your old man, does it?’

Jiraiya frowned at him. ‘What, so you’re upset because we haven’t spent that much time together?’

‘Well, yes,’ Benjiro admitted, smiling slightly, ‘but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Besides, it’s a parent’s job to watch their children flourish from afar – and letting go is part of the unspoken deal. That’s okay, you know? But, like I said, we haven’t really had a moment spare to really…talk.’

Jiraiya studied his father’s face, pressing his lips together. ‘I guess you’re right. I’ll try and make more time for you and all that for sure, but honestly, you’re making me pretty worried. What’s the deal? What are we talking about here?’

Benjiro leaned over and took Jiraiya’s hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I…I’ve been a good father, haven’t I? I know it was tough without your mother, and I know you felt her loss, but I…did a good job, right? Raising you?’

‘Pa, what are you going on about?’ Jiraiya said, his heartrate increasing. There was something deeply mournful in Benjiro’s expression that was freaking him out.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Benjiro said, chuckling softly. ‘I shouldn’t expect you to indulge an old fool like me. It’s just…the life I’ve led has been put into perspective, I think. And you were and always will be the centre of it, my boy. No matter what.’

Jiraiya stayed silent, at a loss for words. Why was he saying those things? It wasn’t like Benjiro to be elusive. He was a straight-forward sort of man, like his son. He smiled when he was happy, cried when he was sad, and told people he loved them without being self-conscious. He was comfortable in his own skin. For him to be so vague and complicated with his words could only mean one thing: something had happened.

‘The thing is,’ Benjiro continued, finally lifting his head and looking Jiraiya straight in the eye, ‘and it…hurts me to admit it to you, my boy, but…well, there’s no other way to put it, really. I’m sick, Jiraiya. More than that, really. I’m…dying.’

Jiraiya felt like someone had rammed a rock down his throat. He stared at him, the word hammering around his brain like a swarm of angry bees. _Dying. Dying. Dying._ He was vaguely aware of his body, how large and heavy his head felt, how weakly Benjiro was holding onto his hand. It all fell into place like a tonne of bricks. The weakness in his father’s grip, the age-lines scored in his face only after a couple of years, the fragility of his skin, the thinness of his body. There was less and less to hold onto. Less to hug. He was fading right in front of his eyes, and Jiraiya hadn’t even noticed.

‘Wha-what do you mean?’ Jiraiya whispered.

Benjiro’s tired eyes were sparkling with tears. ‘I’ve been in and out of the Hospital for some time, now, trying to work out what ails me. The diagnosis is grim. There is no cure, Jiraiya. This thing growing inside of me, this…intradural tumour, they called it, it’s wrapped itself around my spinal cord. No medical ninja can remove it. And it’s spreading rapidly. Jiraiya, I am truly sorry. I wish I could give you more days, but I…’ Benjiro trailed off, shaking his head. Even though he’d made peace with his diagnosis, having found out half a year ago, actually telling Jiraiya was like being punched over and over again in the gut. If anything, it made him wonder whether he _had_ made peace with it after all.

‘I…you’re sure?’ Jiraiya managed. He felt like the room was spinning. The light was gone and the shadows were spilling in from the windows, the doors. It was leaking everywhere and consuming everything. The familiar little kitchen suddenly seemed alien and cruel. It seemed like a threat.

Benjiro bit his lip, hard. ‘I am. And I wish, with everything I have, that it wasn’t so.’

Jiraiya seemed to slump forward, the news crippling him. He could feel his heart thrum in the base of his throat, hardly aware that Benjiro had pulled his chair forward, and had wrapped his arms around him. Just like he had when Komako had died. Just like he had when he’d failed the Chuunin exams first time around. Just like he always had. Always been there. Always.

‘Hey, listen to me,’ Benjiro murmured, feeling Jiraiya’s body shake. ‘If you think about it, _everyone’s_ days are numbered. I’m lucky enough to know how many I have left. I can choose what do with them, right? This knowledge has forced my hand. Made me reconsider what really _matters_. And you matter, Jiraiya. You’re the most important thing to me in the whole world. And I don’t want to hold you back in any way, but I…I want to spend more time with you. Time is so precious. Time spent with your loved ones even more. _My_ time is limited, yes, but it means I can spend it how I want. I merely…want to talk to you. Every day. Until the days run out.’

Jiraiya felt tears streaming down his face as he clung onto his father. His _father_. The one who had fed him until he could feed himself. The one who had held his chubby little wrists as he stumbled over himself, learning to walk. The one who had clothed him, walked with him to the Academy, beamed in the crowd as he battled his way through the Chuunin exams, and wept with joy when he became a Jonin. The one tried to cook, but always failed. The one who told him stories about the mother he never knew, painting such a vivid image that Jiraiya felt like he could feel her warmth, smell her perfume. The one who showered him in care, so he never wanted for anything. Least of all love.

‘I don’t want you to leave me,’ Jiraiya whispered, clinging on for fear of him slipping away.

Benjiro chuckled. ‘Well, that’s good to know. I’d be sad if you started celebrating.’

‘But there must be something we can do,’ Jiraiya said, his shock turning to denial. ‘Who gave you this diagnosis? Do they know for sure? How can they even tell if they haven’t tried?’

‘They have tried everything,’ Benjiro said solemnly. ‘They’ve been running tests for three years now, Jiraiya. They didn’t want to conclude the worst, but the results speak for themselves.’

‘T-three years? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ Jiraiya said, pulling away and feeling a flare of anger. ‘I would have – I could have – I could have been there for you! Supported you! I would never have left if I knew you were suffering!’

Benjiro lay a steady hand on his son’s shoulder, halting his rant. ‘Which is exactly why I didn’t. You, in all your good nature, would have put your life on hold for your old Dad. I didn’t want that for either of us. But you’re here _now_ , Jiraiya. And you can be present in any capacity you choose.’

Jiraiya shook his head, running his hands through his hands. ‘But…three years? I was here, at home, for an entire year, while you were having all these tests? You could have told me!’

‘I didn’t know it would be so serious,’ Benjiro said, keeping his tone level. He could tell Jiraiya was about to switch from denial to something else, and he didn’t want that emotion to be anger. No matter how easy it is to feel.

‘But…this can’t be right,’ Jiraiya murmured, gripping at his long hair. ‘You can’t just…illnesses _have_ to be cured. They _can_ be cured. There was even that article in the newspaper today about how much Konoha’s medicine has advanced! There _has_ to be something you can do!’

Benjiro pressed his lips together, rubbing Jiraiya’s back soothingly. ‘Well…there is one option.’

Jiraiya looked up, hope flaring in his dark eyes. ‘And?’ 

‘And,’ Benjiro said, sighing deeply, ‘it only gives me a 10% chance of survival. It’s an operation.’

‘Then take it!’ Jiraiya said, raising his voice. ‘Take that chance!’

Benjiro shook his head. ‘Jiraiya…I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’d rather die on my own terms, in my own bed, than on a cold operating table in the heart of that Hospital,’ he replied, his tone stern. ‘I’ve already made my peace with it. I implore that you do, too. I’m not certain how long I’ve got left, but…I won’t see two summers, that’s for sure.’

Jiraiya swallowed, hard, tears in his eyes. ‘I…I can’t accept this.’

Benjiro sighed. He pulled Jiraiya towards him again, pressing his forehead to his. ‘I didn’t think you would. But, please, Jiraiya…let us spend my remaining days in peace, not frantically scrambling for a cure that doesn’t exist.’

But Jiraiya wasn’t listening. His anger, his grief, his shock, it all dissipated into the air and was replaced with desperate denial. ‘This is wrong. I’m not letting you die like this, Pa. Two more summers isn’t enough. You need more. You _deserve_ more. And I…I can’t lose you.’

Benjiro sniffed, tears in his eyes. ‘Sadly, we don’t get a choice in the matter.’

‘Yes, we do,’ Jiraiya said, pulling away and strengthening his resolve. ‘My best friend was named a genius medical ninja just this morning, wasn’t she? In that paper? _She’s_ the one accelerating Konoha’s medical system. She can save you. She can save anyone. Let me just talk to her, and we can sort this out.’

Jiraiya made to stand up, but Benjiro grabbed his arm in that weak, fragile grip. With difficulty, he steeled himself to look Jiraiya right in the eye. He sniffed again, feeling tears trickle down his face at Jiraiya’s extreme denial.

‘Believe me, Jiraiya, there’s nothing she can do,’ he murmured, shaking his head.

‘What, so you’re a medical expert, now?’ Jiraiya scoffed.

‘No. It’s not that,’ Benjiro said, his tone grave. ‘It’s because Tsunade is the one who finally diagnosed me. And she is the only one capable of performing the operation.’

Jiraiya didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to process what Benjiro just said, nor the capacity to feel an inkling of frustration that Tsunade knew before him. All he saw, at the heart of it, was a solution. Tsunade could save him. 10% chance or not, it was as simple as that. For Jiraiya was, and always would be, a straight-forward sort of man. Like his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME TO PART THREE! And HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Though, let's be honest...not entirely happy, eh? England is in lock down again, and the reason this chapter took so long is because I've been feeling pretty overwhelmed. It's hard to write when your mind is full, but at the same time, finally finishing this made me feel really happy. And, it was a nice distraction.  
> In any case, I hope you're all still there, reading away! ❤ Comment if you are! And I hope you all had happy holidays, despite the general mood.  
> Now, there's obviously been a hefty time-skip, and the Sannin are in their early twenties (like me!). There is A LOT to include - Asuma's birth, Kushina's arrival in the Village, Kakashi's birth, basically ALL of the Jonin in Naruto's era being born, the war, Dan, EVERYTHING. But, as this is a Sannin fic, the primary focus will be on our three tragic heroes. As for an update schedule, I'm thinking fortnightly. What day is it today? It's about 12.30 am my time, so I make that Thursday! Let's say Thursday, then! 😁  
> I have much planned. I really hope you guys are still sticking with me, and most importantly, enjoying it!  
> Take care in this insane world. Always ready to lend an ear should anyone need it - after all, you've all been so lovely, it's the absolute least I can do! Plus, I love a good chat.  
> Happy reading xo


	26. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsunade breaches the gap between her and Orochimaru, Jiraiya deals with his grief, and the three catch up over a drink.
> 
> *WARNING* For depictions of pregnancy difficulties and sexual harassment

Chapter 26 – Old Wounds 

Date: 50 A.K. (After Konoha)

The first thing 9-year-old Kushina Uzumaki noticed about Konoha, on her momentous arrival, was a pretty, blonde woman arguing with a tall, white-haired man. She frowned at them as Konoha officials ushered her through the gate, and she strained to hear what they were so heatedly discussing. She could make out a few words – something along the lines of _it’s not your decision_ , followed by a _he’s not thinking straight_ , which led to an outraged _you’re the one who isn’t thinking straight_ , and so on and so forth. She pouted. As far as she was concerned, adults should know better than to have a shouting match in public. Apparently, the Konoha officials who were guiding her thought the same.

‘Honestly, Jiraiya has only been home for three months, and he’s spent more time arguing with Princess Tsunade than he has carrying out his duties,’ the woman muttered, shaking her head.

‘They’ve been like that since they were kids,’ the other replied, smirking slightly. ‘I was in their class at the Academy, you know. Constantly at each other’s throats even then.’

‘You think it’s funny that they’re behaving so childishly, Nara?’ the woman frowned.

‘I think it’s nostalgic,’ Kenzou Nara replied. ‘All you’d need now is Orochimaru looking cluelessly between them, and you’d have a spitting image of what it was like back in the day.’

‘Well, I heard that Orochimaru has been too busy skulking around the archives to do much of anything, least of all intervene with those two,’ the woman said, her tone grave.

Kenzou eyed her curiously. ‘You got an issue with the guy? Sure, he’s a little creepy, but he’s harmless.’

‘You haven’t heard what he’s been up to under Lord Danzo, have you?’ the woman replied stiffly. ‘If he’s not in the archives, he’s completing all manner of shady missions.’

‘He’s part of the ANBU, Kia. It’s part of the job description to be shady,’ Kenzou said dismissively. ‘Anyway, enough about that. We’ve got to take this squirt to the Hokage, pronto. And quite frankly, I have better things to do.’

‘Hey!’ Kushina said indignantly, folding her arms. ‘Who are you calling ‘squirt’, huh?!’

Kenzou towered over her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Listen, little red, I know coming to a place as large as Konoha _might_ make you a little too big for your boots, but trust me, you ought to keep your head down and your mouth shut. Else you could run into trouble.’

Kushina glared at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. ‘I didn’t even wanna leave Uzushiogakure anyway, especially to live in this crappy place!’

Kia snorted in amusement, taking a liking to the girl almost at once. Not many people spoke in such a manner to Kenzou Nara – if they did, they usually ended up being shut down due to his impressive intellect and cool head. But Kenzou had never really dealt with children – least of all someone like Kushina Uzumaki – and, for once, he was at a loss for words. He merely glared at the girl, before turning away from her and continuing his march towards the Mansion.

‘Hmph,’ Kushina scowled. ‘What a jerk.’

‘ _He_ is one of the sharpest minds in Konoha, kiddo,’ Kia smirked. ‘You’d do well to learn a little bit of respect for your elders, or you really could run into trouble, like he said.’

‘Why would I respect my elders when they behave like that?’ Kushina mumbled.

At first, Kia thought the girl was referring to Kenzou’s aloofness, but she followed her pointing finger to where Tsunade and Jiraiya was still bickering. Kia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

‘Would you believe me if I told you that those two are also some of the sharpest minds in Konoha?’ she said, her words very half-hearted. _Well, maybe I’m over-selling Jiraiya, come to think of it._

‘As if,’ Kushina said flatly.

‘You know what, fair enough,’ Kia replied. ‘But for real, kiddo, we’d best get a move on. The Hokage is a busy man. We don’t want to be late.’

‘I still dunno why I’ve had to move here in the first place,’ Kushina muttered, scuffing her shoe against the dirt path and expelling a puff of dust.

Kia didn’t reply. Of course, _she_ knew why Kushina Uzumaki had been summoned to Konoha, but the girl was still none the wiser. Only a handful of Konoha officials knew the real reason for Kushina’s abrupt transfer, and while they had presented the move as a way to improve relations with Uzushiogakure’s now scattered population – and to provide any survivors of the village’s destruction with refuge – the real reason was much more complex. Kushina would remain blissfully unaware of her fate for some time after her arrival in Konoha, but she would notice how oddly people looked her at. Kia and Kenzou included. They knew all about her special chakra, all about her dormant skill in Fuinjutsu, and all about her destiny to become the next Jinchuriki for the Kyuubi. While Mito Uzumaki was still relatively healthy, no one could predict when she would pass away. Her death would bring utter chaos, so, sensibly, they needed insurance. Unfortunately for Kushina, that meant she would be tethered to a demon fox until the birth of her son. She had much to face in the coming years. Kia almost felt sorry for her.

‘Don’t worry about all that,’ Kia said softly, after a pause. ‘The Hokage will look after you, I promise. And besides, you can view this as an opportunity to start anew. Think of all the friends you can make, eh?’

Kushina looked very sceptical. ‘If you say so.’

As Kia led Kushina away, Tsunade was at the end of her short tether. 

‘Jiraiya, you can’t keep ambushing me like this,’ she hissed. ‘We’ve had this conversation a thousand times, and my answer is still _no_. Get that into your thick skull already.’

‘I’m not ambushing you!’ Jiraiya protested. ‘I’m just trying to find a moment to have a rational discussion with you – which, by the way, is borderline impossible with you avoiding me like this!’

‘Avoiding you?’ Tsunade snorted. ‘Gee, why do think that is? Maybe because you keep sneaking up on me and picking fights in the middle of the street?’

‘This isn’t a fight,’ Jiraiya scowled. ‘It’s a conversation. A damn important one, at that. And you’re not even giving me the time of day.’

A look of sympathy briefly crossed over Tsunade’s features, her eyes softening slightly. She sighed, trying her best to dismiss her mounting anger. She could understand why Jiraiya was so upset – she would be too, if she was in his shoes – but there was very little she could do. And him essentially stalking her so he could catch her off work was starting to get on her nerves, especially since it had been going on since the New Year.

‘Look,’ she said, rubbing her temple, ‘I understand and I sympathise, Jiraiya, I really do, but this isn’t my decision it make. Or yours. It’s Benjiro’s, and his alone. If _he_ comes to me, sound of mind, and decides to go ahead with the operation, then I’ll pick up the scalpel. But in the meantime, you really need to stop bugging me so much.’

Jiraiya pressed his lips together. Ever since Benjiro had broken the news about his terminal illness, his mind had been totally preoccupied with it. He had thought of little else, least of all his commitments as a Jonin _and_ finding the Child of Prophecy, and as far as he could understand, there was only one way Benjiro would survive: having the operation. But the man didn’t want it. Jiraiya had been wearing him down for three months, but if his father was anything, it was stubborn. He was adamant that he wanted to die on his own terms, and not under the knife. But he was growing weaker by the day. And it was killing Jiraiya to see it.

‘Tsunade, hear me out,’ he said, his tone strained, but she held up a finger to stop him.

‘I _have_ heard you out. Three months ago,’ she said. ‘And my answer hasn’t changed. You can spring up on me all you want, but unless it’s Benjiro’s words, and Benjiro’s choice, I won’t be doing anything. Got it?’

‘He’s not thinking clearly,’ Jiraiya said.

‘And how do you know that?’ Tsunade said, adjusting the paper shopping bags in her arms. ‘Benjiro has known about his diagnosis a lot longer than you have. If anything, you’re the one not thinking clearly. Your grief is clouding your judgement. You ought to respect his wishes and enjoy the time he has left, not spend your afternoons lingering around the Village waiting for me to get off work.’

Jiraiya lowered his eyes, feeling the beginnings of shame. She had a point. If anything, he was spending less time at home on purpose. If he wasn’t looking for her, he was trying to see Orochimaru – who appeared busier by the day – or hanging out with Akari, who had turned out to be a bit of a lifeline. Or a distraction. He wasn’t sure what to call her, in truth. But he knew one thing: the more time he spent with Benjiro, the more he was forced to watch him fade away.

‘I just…’ he swallowed, composing himself. ‘There has to be something you can do. Something more, I mean.’

Tsunade looked at him incredulously. ‘Something more? What, more than spending _months_ trying to find a cure for him while you were off galivanting around on your travels writing your so-called books? More than pouring over every article and every transcript I could find on his illness? More than – actually, you know what, this isn’t about me. This about you and your father. If you want him to have the operation, then _you_ need to talk to him. Properly.’

‘I have!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘Tsunade, believe me, I’ve tried everything. But that stupid 10% statistic you gave him is holding him back. Making him wary. _That’s_ the issue here.’

‘I didn’t conjure up those odds out of thin air, Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said, looking a little hurt. ‘It took ages to even figure out a chance for him. A chance that no one else could give him, I add.’

‘Even Biwako? She’s the one who trained you,’ Jiraiya said.

‘Biwako is extraordinary, but I’ve surpassed her,’ Tsunade said, rather matter-of-factly. ‘Besides, she’s on maternity leave looking after Asuma. He’s only a few months old, Jiraiya. Biwako can’t offer you any more than I have, and I don’t want you pestering her about it.’

Jiraiya clenched his jaw, frustration heating up his face. ‘So, you’re really trying to tell me that 10% is all _anyone_ can give him?’

Tsunade sighed, adjusting her shopping bags. She really wanted to get back to her flat and have a few hours to herself before the nightshift at the Hospital, but she could tell Jiraiya needed to have the conversation. Again. ‘Yes. It is. I can’t say I’m happy about it, but that 10% is a miracle in itself. You’d be hard pushed to find anyone else who’d be able to give him that chance. The procedure is exceptionally complex – more than you could even fathom, at any rate – and, as far as everyone at the Hospital is concerned, is impossible for anyone else. I’ve passed on his notes to every expert in the Village, but no one has come up with anything better than I have. I’ve worked as hard as I can.’

‘Then work harder!’ Jiraiya snapped, his frustration getting the better of him.

Tsunade flinched slightly at his tone. He had never spoken to her like that before. Even after she’d beaten him so badly he ended up in Hospital, he had never bitten her head off in such a manner. _This must be really getting to him._

‘Listen to me,’ Tsunade said, controlling her anger and gently touching his arm, ‘I can’t give you any more. I hate to see you suffer and I hate to give Benjiro such a hideous ultimatum, but it really is the best I can do. You know that, right?’

Jiraiya swallowed down a lump in his throat. He did know that, yes. Tsunade would never give up until she found the best solution. Unfortunately, the ‘best’ solution was still a hard knock. A 10% chance at life might be worth it for someone who was young and desperate to live, but Benjiro, as he had told Jiraiya, had already _lived_. He’d had him time as a Chuunin, fell in love, and watched his son grow up. But Jiraiya didn’t care about that. Benjiro didn’t seem to understand that, just because Jiraiya was an adult, now, it didn’t mean he could do without his father. 

‘He’s…really going to die, isn’t he?’ Jiraiya mumbled, the words heavy in his mouth.

Tsunade nodded gravely, hardly knowing what to say. Her heart ached for Jiraiya, for she knew what it was like. Gone were the days when the likes of Orochimaru could accuse her of not understanding loss. She knew it better than anyone.

Jiraiya swallowed, looking at Tsunade with difficulty. Her brown eyes were full of concern, and of love, and it made everything ten times worse _and_ ten times better all at the same time. He knew she would never let him down. He knew she would do everything she could. And that in itself was the most genuine of gifts. He took her hand, the one that was draped on his arm, and squeezed it tightly. Her hands were small. It was incredible how many lives she’d saved with them. Tsunade, a bit taken-a-back, squeezed his back. She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it down. It was rare for him to look so vulnerable.

‘Jiraiya, I…’ she whispered, suddenly feeling like they _weren’t_ in the middle of the street, in the late afternoon, with the villagers milling around going about their business.

‘I know,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘I know you’re sorry. And I know you did your best. You always do, Tsunade. I shouldn’t have questioned that.’

Tsunade’s heart gave an odd sort of jolt of something she had never felt before. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with him looking at her like that, with such raw vulnerability, and something else, something like hope. She wasn’t sure what it was for. But the moment was broken almost as immediately as it has begun. 

‘Jiraiya!’ Akari Sato said, spotting her ‘boyfriend’, shall we say, from across the road. Tsunade dropped his hand immediately and cleared her throat, feeling a little awkward. Akari sprang towards them and threw her arms around Jiraiya’s neck, giving him a great, smacking kiss on the cheek. Tsunade looked away.

‘Akari, hey,’ Jiraiya said, supporting her weight as she clutched onto him.

‘Are you alright?’ she said, her eyes full of concern. For some reason, Jiraiya found himself noticing, her concern was more irritating that comforting. Nothing like Tsunade’s, at any rate. He cleared his throat, lowering her back down to earth.

‘Yeah, I…I was just discussing Pa’s treatment plan, that’s all,’ he said.

Akari’s face fell. ‘Oh, of course. You know, if there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to ask. I could, I dunno, cook for you and your Dad one evening? Or help with the cleaning? I can’t imagine he’s very good at moving around much now, hm?’

Tsunade winced at Akari’s lack of tact. She could tell the girl had a good heart, even if she was a little dappy, but she couldn’t read the room.

‘That might be nice,’ Jiraiya said, sensing she was trying to help. To her credit, Akari adored Jiraiya and did everything to make him happy, even if it _was_ quite overbearing. And she was always good at distracting him, which, given the circumstance, was welcome.

‘Oh, hi, Tsunade,’ Akari said, as if noticing her for the first time. ‘How are you doing? I’ve hardly seen you around the Village of late.’

‘Been keeping busy,’ Tsunade said.

‘I’ll say!’ Akari said enthusiastically. ‘I heard all about that community project you’re pioneering – you know, the one where mourning families get to meet in a safe space and talk about their feelings and stuff. Always being productive!’

‘There’s a bit more to it than that,’ Tsunade said, thinking about the fact that the scheme was actually being led by a trained psychologist to discuss trauma and the difficulty of dealing with loss and bereavement. ‘But yeah. One of many projects, really.’

‘Gosh, you’re so _cool_ ,’ Akari said, her eyes shining with admiration. ‘No wonder you haven’t got time for a relationship!’

Tsunade peeled her lips back in what she hoped was a smile rather than a grimace. It was very much the latter.

‘Anyway,’ Akari continued, clutching Jiraiya’s hand, ‘I hope you don’t mind, Tsunade, but we’ve got a date planned!’

‘We have?’ Jiraiya said weakly.

‘Of course!’ Akari gasped. ‘Jiraiya, it’s sukiyaki Thursday! I marked it in your calendar with a love heart!’

Tsunade bit back a laugh as Jiraiya blushed. ‘Ah! Right! Yes! Well, I mean, I was sort of in the middle of something -’

‘ – the conversation is over,’ Tsunade interrupted, turning serious. ‘Think about what I said, Jiraiya. If Benjiro changes his mind, I’m all ears. But until then…just – just spend time with him, yeah?’

Jiraiya looked at her with large, sad eyes. ‘Yeah. Will do.’

Tsunade watched them go. Akari was tugging at Jiraiya’s arm, chatting jovially all the while, and he hardly seemed to be able to get a word in edgeways. Tsunade smiled slightly. It was nice, in a way, to see Jiraiya getting positive attention. He was always so shunned at the Academy, bullied, even, and while he had managed to claw his way up the ranks, there were many who still thought him a perverted fool. _Well, he still is, technically, but there’s a lot more depth there, now_ , Tsunade thought. She couldn’t help but wonder when he’d grown up so much. Seeing a girl on his arm, hanging on to his every word, had suddenly painted him a new light she had never even considered before. Jiraiya was always a loveable goofball, never a romantic prospect. _But Grandmother is right. He has gotten pretty handsome_. Tsunade jumped and looked around as if she’d said her thought outloud. Sighing, she shook her head. Even if what Benjiro had said, all those years ago at the Hospital, about Jiraiya loving her, such feelings would have long since ceased. Akari was living proof of that. _He had a crush,_ Tsunade convinced herself, readjusting the bags and carrying on her way. _It was just a childish, passing crush. Nothing more._ And yet, even as she told herself that, she couldn’t fight the odd fluttering of regret in her chest.

*

Orochimaru stood in the Hospital waiting room, the moon casting long, silvery columns of light to drape over the plastic furniture. The seats were too uncomfortable and he had a sense he’d be waiting a while. A broken arm wasn’t life threatening. If it were up to him, he would have just slept it off and returned in the morning. But Danzo – out of selfish concern rather than genuine worry – had ordered him to the Hospital when he’d returned. Danzo didn’t want his best Root member out of action any longer than necessary.

Orochimaru winced, readjusting his arm. The bones around the inside of his elbow were jutting out awkwardly, and the pain was throbbing consistently all the way up to his shoulder. The mission hadn’t been all that complex – a simple assassination of a Shinobi Danzo predicted would turn against Konoha – but the simplicity had caught Orochimaru off-guard. Allowing the target to get away would be suicide, so, he pushed himself to the point of breaking in order to silence him. Danzo was furious with him. But the mission was done.

He cast his eyes of the waiting room noticeboard, and Tsunade’s handwriting caught his attention. _Bereavement Counselling Available_ , a poster read. He read it, discovering that Tsunade had established an entirely new faction within the Psychological Care ward of the Hospital, targeted directly at helping families move on from sudden loss. He felt a sense of pride as well as sadness. She was clearly channelling her loss into something beneficial, but the fact she had done it in the first place was what made him wince with grief. It could only be a good thing, helping the villagers, and yet it came about because of her personal experience. Because of Nawaki. _Because of me._

‘Hey, Orochimaru! What are you doing here?’ came a voice from behind him. He turned, and found Sakumo Hatake looking at him with concern, his arm around his newly-wedded wife, Kiyoko Arakawa. He remembered her as a guest at Nawaki’s birthday party. She hardly looked any different than she had those years ago – still pretty, still bespectacled, and still looking fairly shy. Sakumo had hardly changed, either. At 30 years old, he didn’t look a day over 22 – the age he’d been when he’d helped the trio with the Inoshishi.

‘Sakumo, Kiyoko,’ Orochimaru said, bowing his head politely. ‘I was injured on a mission. Nothing too serious, obviously, but Lord Danzo thought I ought to be seen to.’

Sakumo winced when he saw the awkward, jutting angle of Orochimaru’s arm. ‘I’ll say. You in much pain? I could get a Doctor to give you some meds while you wait, if you want. I’m here often enough, so I have a little sway!’

‘No, thank you,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Pain is a lesson in itself, and it ought to be felt.’

Sakumo shrugged. He was used to Orochimaru’s odd turn of phrase. ‘If you say so. Hopefully you won’t be waiting too much longer, though. It’s not too busy for the night.’

‘Speaking of which, why are you here so late?’ Orochimaru asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

‘I’d hardly call 7pm late, kid,’ Sakumo smirked, almost forgetting Orochimaru was no longer the thin, froward scrap of a teenager he’d met way back when.

‘Usually, appointments are kept during the day,’ Orochimaru replied. ‘Forgive me if I’ve over-stepped.’

Sakumo glanced and Kiyoko, who shrugged and smiled. ‘Well, to be honest, we made a special arrangement. I’m always so busy with my duties during the day, and Kiyoko is run off her feet overseeing her family’s inn, that it was virtually impossible to get a day appointment. Luckily for me, _I_ know the resident hot-shot around here pretty well, so, she sorted it.’

‘Tsunade?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘You got it,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘We didn’t actually have our appointment with her, though. It’s a little more specialist, you know? Plus, it feels a little weird talking to her about – actually, you probably don’t wanna know.’

Orochimaru cocked his head to one side. Now Sakumo had said _that_ , he did want to know.

‘Oh, you can tell him,’ Kiyoko sighed, poking Sakumo in the side playfully.

‘For real? You sure?’ Sakumo said, rubbing the back of his head.

‘Why not?’ she winked. ‘He’s your friend, right?’

Orochimaru blinked at the pair of them, not really sure about what to make of the exchange. To be honest, he was feeling slightly flustered about the fact that Sakumo apparently viewed him as a friend. He hadn’t exactly seen the man much, given his new-found duties, and he was hardly the most talkative of types. Then again, Sakumo _had_ become a bit of a confidant at times. When they’d both been given their Genin teams, Sakumo had offered him advice, if he needed it. He’d even comforted him when he was at a loss concerning Tsunade and Jiraiya. If anything, Sakumo meant more to him than he realised.

Sakumo looked at Orochimaru with a charming smile. ‘Well, I mean, I don’t wanna force our news on you or anything, but…Kiyoko and I are trying to start a family. The consultation this evening was about making that all possible, because, you know, sometimes, things aren’t always straight-forward and couples get unlucky with stuff like this.’

‘What he means, Orochimaru,’ Kiyoko said plainly, ‘is that I’m trying and failing to keep a pregnancy. Yeah, I know that _might_ be a bit too much information, but if this goofy so-and-so can’t spell it out, then I don’t mind doing it. We both want a child, but we need a little help to get there. That’s all.’

Orochimaru took a moment of processing, before he came up with a little ‘oh.’

‘Wow, don’t sound too enthusiastic there, Orochimaru,’ Sakumo smirked, patting him on the back gently, wary of his arm. ‘But yeah. That about sums it up. I’ve wanted to be a father for about as long as I can remember - so, it was sort of a no-brainer.’

‘Good thing I want to be a mother, too, else we’d have reached an impasse,’ Kiyoko smiled.

Orochimaru didn’t quite know what to say. He supposed congratulations were in order, but it almost seemed inappropriate, since Kiyoko hadn’t actually fallen pregnant. Of course, he wasn’t so inept to think he should say nothing at all – especially after they’d shared something so personal with him – but he was _bad_ at ‘personal’. Being away from Tsunade and Jiraiya had sapped away the meagre capabilities he had at making small talk. Usually, he’d reply on them to take the helm. But they weren’t there. They hadn’t been properly present for a few years.

‘I – well – that’s certainly interesting news,’ Orochimaru said, his brow furrowed. ‘Exciting, too, I suspect? It will be quite the life-style adjustment.’

‘That’s putting it lightly’ Sakumo chuckled, putting his arm around Kiyoko. ‘But I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.’

‘If things – er – go swimmingly,’ Orochimaru continued, cringing at his own word choice, ‘I suppose your child would be a similar age to Sarutobi-sensei’s son. They might even share a class.’

‘Indeed. That would be something!’ Sakumo replied enthusiastically. ‘Though I can’t imagine rubbing elbows with Konoha royalty would be an easy feat, especially at that age. Kids can get awfully competitive.’

‘I know the feeling,’ Orochimaru said, smiling slightly as he thought back to his Academy days. Tsunade was so full of herself, back then, and felt like everyone ought to snivel beneath her due to her status. Jiraiya was much the same – though his over-confidence wasn’t exactly built on a solid foundation.

‘Still, we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,’ Sakumo said briskly. ‘The kid might not want to be a Shinobi. And besides, we’re not even pregnant, yet.’

‘You mean _I’m_ not pregnant, yet,’ Kiyoko said sternly. ‘I don’t know what this ‘us’ business is about. I’m the one who’s going to have to lug around a humongous stomach and deal with all the horrendous mood changes and health check-ups.’

‘Sure you’re not having those mood changes already?’ Sakumo said, sweating slightly at her tone.

Kiyoko glared at him, but Orochimaru could see the fondness in her eyes. The two were, in every sense of the word, very much in love. Kiyoko’s family ran a chain of inns, and had finally established one in Konoha. In fact, Kiyoko’s introduction to Hiruzen at Nawaki’s party had really helped speed things up. He was, admittedly, slightly drunk was he heartily agreed to discuss the business proposition, but the inns spoke for themselves. They were cosy, stylish, and boasted many popular reviews from visitors and residents alike. It was good for Sakumo, too. He would probably never admit to anyone but his son, when the time came to tell him stories of his mother, but he had been smitten with her pretty much from the first moment he saw her. A fairy-tale love story, by all accounts. If only it had a happier ending. Back then, though, when Sakumo and Kiyoko jovially discussed their plans with Orochimaru, they didn’t know the coming years would bring. They would blessed with a son, at least, but Kiyoko would not live to watch him grow. That is the risk one takes, when they start to build a home.

‘Anyway,’ Sakumo said, ‘we’d best be getting on. I’m heading out on a S-rank tomorrow, so I ought to get some proper rest.’

‘Oh? Not too dangerous, I hope?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘It’s a S-rank, Orochimaru,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘You know it’s going to be dangerous. But I’m teamed up with Shinku Yūhi, so it should be a sinch. He’s recently had a daughter, come to think of it. Kurenai.’

‘Gosh, it seems like everyone is having children at the moment!’ Kiyoko exclaimed. She sounded slightly saddened when she said that, as if regretful that she had yet to fall pregnant herself. Sakumo sensed it, too, and he gently squeezed her hand.

‘Then hopefully our child will have a lot of friends,’ he said softly.

Orochimaru, feeling as though he was beginning to intrude, went to fold his arms in a show of casualness. The sharp pain that tore up his arm reminded him of the whole reason he was there in the first place, and he hissed. Sakumo looked at him, concern on his face.

‘You sure you’re going to be alright? I can hang about if you need a distraction from the pain,’ he said.

Orochimaru shook his head. ‘No need. I’ve had worse.’

‘Well, you take care of yourself, yeah?’ Sakumo said. ‘You’re one of Konoha’s finest, Orochimaru. Don’t want you slipping through the net.’

Orochimaru nodded in thanks. He watched them leave through the double doors, hand in hand, and chatting all the while. He almost felt envious of them. He hadn’t had any romantic relationships at all, and hardly any friendships. Apart from Jiraiya and Tsunade (which was questionable, given that he hardly saw them), and perhaps Sakumo, he couldn’t exactly say he had a lot of meaningful relationships. He sighed, collapsing in one the chairs. _Have I gone wrong somewhere along the way? I’m not the most sociable person in the world, but I would have thought I’d made some progress_. Running his good hand through his hair, he shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. It was a waste of energy to dwell on what he didn’t have.

‘Orochimaru?’ the receptionist called, looking around the waiting room for him. He stood up too quickly and felt a little light-headed. The receptionist, clearly recognising him from the amount of times he’d been there over the years, gave him a smile. ‘Room 14. Sorry about the wait.’

Orochimaru nodded and headed down the corridor, keeping an eye out for the room number. The hospital’s accident and emergency wing was usually much, much busier, with the rooms closed to indicate consultations. Most of them were open, and medical ninjas sat around doing paper work at their desks, or chatting to their fellow colleagues. Orochimaru wondered whether Tsunade’s new initiative of triaging – where several medical ninjas would see patients on arrival and weed out those who didn’t actually need immediate help – was partly responsible for the clear corridors. In all his years of being in and out of A&E, he witnessed many villagers just turning up with minor injuries so they didn’t have to bother making an appointment. Tsunade’s system stopped that happening – even if it did ruffle a few feathers.

As he arrived at Room 14, he knocked on the door, and was granted entry by a familiar voice. He felt his heart rate increase out of anxiety. Tsunade was sat the desk, tapping a pen against the notes she’d been given by the receptionist detailing Orochimaru’s case. She glanced up when she saw him, and offered a tired smile.

‘Orochimaru. Hi,’ she said, gesturing him towards a chair opposite her desk. He took it rather reluctantly, and she pouted at him. ‘What’s with the scepticism?’

‘What scepticism?’ Orochimaru said, doing a terrible job of feigning innocence.

‘Orochimaru, we’ve known each other since we were 5,’ Tsunade said. ‘I can tell when you’re feeling a certain way. What’s up? Not happy with me?’

‘You’re the best medical ninja here,’ Orochimaru said evenly. ‘I don’t doubt your skills. I just wonder about the…appropriateness, that’s all. Treating a close friend isn’t really correct procedure, is it?’

‘We’re not exactly close anymore,’ Tsunade said stiffly, leaning forward in her seat and inspecting his broken arm. ‘Besides, it doesn’t really matter. I’ve treated you before, and I can do it again. Unless you’re uncomfortable, that is.’

‘I’m only uncomfortable because you – _ouch_ – are manhandling my arm’ Orochimaru growled, wincing as Tsunade pressed along the swelling with a frown on her face.

‘Don’t be such a baby,’ she said. ‘But I must say, this is one nasty break. What the hell happened?’

Orochimaru’s lips curled in a sneer. ‘What, you’re actually interested in me? Not a moment ago, you proclaimed that we weren’t close anymore. I’m surprised you’re taking the time out of your busy schedule to investigate how I’m doing.’

A look of hurt flittered over Tsunade’s face, but it passed so quickly that he could have blinked and missed it. ‘Call it medical curiosity, then, if you’re going to make a fuss.’

Orochimaru sighed. He was tired, he was in pain, and he still couldn’t look at Tsunade without seeing Nawaki. It had been nearly 8 years since it happened, and despite that, they had never actually spoken about it. It was if they had wordlessly agreed to draw a veil over it, deciding the memory was too painful to access. Besides, after the funeral, when the three of them had sat on the Mansion’s roof and shared in their grief, it felt like everything left unsaid had dissipated into the afternoon sun. He didn’t want to reopen old wounds. He didn’t think she needed to know that Nawaki’s death hung heavily in his heart, nor that he still dreamt of it – the boulder, the smell of blood, the look in his eyes before it happened. As far as Orochimaru was concerned, Tsunade didn’t need to know of his guilt, his grief. She especially didn’t need to know that her face, her smile, and that necklace felt like a smack in the face every time he saw her. He’d failed her. He’d failed Nawaki.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tsunade said softly. She was referring to his arm, but to Orochimaru, it felt like she was apologising for something else. Something left unstated. ‘In all seriousness, you _are_ a patient, so if you’d rather be seen by someone else, then -’

‘ – no,’ Orochimaru interrupted. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

Tsunade looked at him oddly, before she resumed her work. Her touch was gentler, more cautious, as she examined the break. Her hair fell over her face and she frowned, biting her lip.

‘Is it really that bad?’ Orochimaru gulped.

Tsunade glanced up at him. ‘Huh?’

‘The break. You look as though you’re about to pronounce me dead.’

Tsunade shook her head. ‘You, attempting a joke? Wonders will never cease. And it’s not that. To be honest, the break _is_ pretty unpleasant, but not incurable. We won’t have to chop it off.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Orochimaru said, swallowing thickly. There was a tension in the room, and not a pleasant one. It was like they were being scrutinised by something unseen, a dark entity dwelling in the corner of the room and sucking out the air. It almost made it hard to breathe. Between the pain and the anxiousness creeping up his spine, Orochimaru hardly knew what to say. 

‘I was just thinking, really,’ Tsunade said, her eyes lowering from his face to fixate on the jutting bones.

‘Thinking?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘About when it got so difficult to talk to you. Without it turning sour, I mean.’

Orochimaru’s lips parted in surprise, and he jerked away from her touch.

‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ Tsunade said.

‘Yes.’

Tsunade’s eyes, so much like Nawaki’s, avoided his. ‘Well, it’s a broken arm. There’s not much I can do to stop the pain while I’m examining it.’

‘I didn’t mean my arm. You know that,’ Orochimaru said, a bite to his tone.

Tsunade sighed and ran a hand through her hair, looking more tired than he’d ever seen her. ‘Look, I…I know things got difficult when Jiraiya left, but it felt like you were avoiding me. It’s hard to keep up a friendship when you freaked out every time you saw me.’

Orochimaru pressed his lips together. ‘It wasn’t when Jiraiya left. It was…’ he trailed off, unable to say it. He didn’t need to.

‘Jiraiya told me that you blame yourself,’ Tsunade said, her voice low and sticking in her throat. ‘He told me the morning of the funeral. And I told you, remember? I told you that it never crossed my mind to blame you. He’s told you a thousand times since. It’s fine, Orochimaru. It’s finished.’

Orochimaru was feeling rather caught off guard. He hadn’t been expecting to see Tsunade, least of all be stuck in a room with her, and he certainly hadn’t expected a simple consultation to delve into their painful past. His heart thrummed in his throat and he looked away, fixing his eyes on a small crack on the ceiling. He was vaguely aware of Tsunade looking at him, feeling her gaze burn into him, but he ignored it. Ignored her. Like he’d been doing for 8 years.

‘Is it me?’ Tsunade said, breaking the silence. Her voice was small, unsure.

‘What?’

‘Did I do something wrong?’ she continued. He didn’t like how troubled her voice sounded – it was so unlike the Tsunade he knew. ‘Because the thing is, I’ve been pretending that it was Jiraiya leaving that drove this – this wedge between us, but it isn’t, is it? I mean, you can hardly look at me. You haven’t tried to arrange anything with me without Jiraiya. Is our friendship solely based on him? Can’t we – can’t be friends without him?’

Orochimaru kept his gaze trained on the ceiling. He wasn’t expecting this. He was used to a Tsunade who dodged her feelings, buried her head in the sand, and carried on as if nothing was wrong. But she had matured, and he’d missed it. ‘You haven’t exactly tried to see me either, Tsunade. This isn’t a one-sided issue.’

‘I know,’ she agreed, which was a shock in itself. She used to argue whenever she had the chance. ‘I’m fully aware that I’ve been a poor friend lately – hell, for the last few years – but can you _blame_ me? You seem repulsed every time you’re forced to talk to me.’

_I don’t blame you. I blame myself_. ‘I’m not. You’re being far too intense.’

‘That’s because everything about the three of us has been intense since day one,’ Tsunade said. ‘Come on, Orochimaru. We became friends in the first place because I’d just buried Grandfather and I felt miserable. And then you sealed the deal by beating the snot out of Fumihiro when he hurt Jiraiya and I. And then it was nothing but that, right? Defending each other, fighting for each other, _grieving_ for each other. We’ve never been half-arsed about this. Never.’

The crack in the ceiling became more fascinating by the minute. ‘Well, the same can be said for any Shinobi. We’re intense, I suppose, because we don’t know how long we’ll live. We might as well feel as much as we possibly can during the time we have left.’

‘This isn’t about any old Shinobi,’ Tsunade said. ‘This is about salvaging our friendship. If not for us, but for Jiraiya. He’s having a really difficult time at the moment, adjusting to Benjiro’s diagnosis, and he could do with his best friends at his side.’

Mentioning Jiraiya was always a low blow, and Orochimaru’s jaw tensed. ‘Don’t drag Jiraiya into this, and don’t use him as an excuse.’

‘You seem to think we can’t be friends independent of him,’ Tsunade shot back.

‘I never said that,’ Orochimaru said testily. ‘You know why it’s…hard for me. Jiraiya has nothing to do with it, and trying to fix things in his name won’t magically solve the problem.’

‘ _He_ isn’t a problem,’ Tsunade said, unable to say Nawaki’s name. ‘Besides, we’ve already spoken about that – there’s nothing to forgive.’

‘Then why did you say what you said?’ Orochimaru replied, his words tight in his throat.

Tsunade blinked at him. ‘Said what?’

Orochimaru felt anger bubble up from his gut. Could she not even remember the words that tormented him so? Did she not realise what an impact they’d had? How much they had haunted him, for so many years?

_‘You were supposed to be looking out for him! You promised me!’_

‘You told me that I was meant to be looking out for him,’ Orochimaru said, eyes narrowed on the ceiling. ‘That I’d promised you. And I failed. I failed as a sensei, a protector, and as a friend. Mostly as a friend.’

He didn’t tear his eyes away from the ceiling to watch her reaction, and he was glad he didn’t. Tsunade closed her eyes, a tragic understanding falling over her features like a storm cloud impairing a sunny day. She couldn’t remember saying that. She hardly remembered that evening at all. It had been raining, and her feet were wet because she didn’t have time to change into outdoor shoes. She remembered how lifeless Orochimaru had seemed, and the feeling of insurmountable dread when he revealed the necklace. After that, it was a dark smudge.

‘I…didn’t mean that,’ she whispered.

Orochimaru snorted. ‘Of course you did, Tsunade. It was your knee jerk reaction. Such responses speak the truth in your heart far more than retrospect.’

‘I disagree,’ she said softly. ‘I think our reactions to our own thoughts define who we are more than anything else. The shame, the shock, the disgust – _that_ speaks more than what we are initially conditioned to think. And…can you really pin that on me, Orochimaru? I’d just found out my brother had died. I can’t be held accountable for much in that moment. Not after receiving such news.’

Orochimaru’s neck muscles tensed. ‘Like I said, I don’t blame you. I blame myself. You should have beaten me like you did Jiraiya when you caught him at the hot springs.’

Tsunade winced at the memory. ‘I’d never do that. Especially when you weren’t in the wrong. Listen, it’s taken me years to wrap my head around it, and a _lot_ of anger, but it was an accident. A terrible, freak accident. Now, I still believe more should have been done to prevent it, but that is down to the higher-ups allowing Iwagakure to overstep the mark. It was never your fault, Orochimaru. Please believe that.’

He just shook his head, unable to buy into her words. He could hear her honesty, but he didn’t feel it. ‘It was. I should have done more. Should have been stronger.’

‘This isn’t about what I said,’ Tsunade said softly. ‘This is about _you_ , isn’t it? About your grief? And your regrets?’

Orochimaru clenched his fist. ‘No, it isn’t. It’s because you confirmed the worst. I was already reeling and you dug the knife in deeper, and I don’t even blame you for it. You have every right to be furious at me.’ _I wish you were. If you were, I might feel less guilty._

‘But I’m not angry with you,’ Tsunade said, reaching out and touching his knee. ‘Orochimaru, I never was. I’m sorry if I didn’t say that enough, but I never, _ever_ blamed you. In that moment of shock, I might have said things I didn’t believe, but I was…well, you know. Grief does weird things to you. Makes you do and say things you don’t mean.’

He’d be waiting to hear her say that, sincerely, for years. But for some reason, her words brought him no solace – only greater sadness.

‘I…’ he trailed off, swallowing thickly.

Tsunade’s thumb comfortingly rubbed his knee. ‘I think I know what the issue is, here. You’ve always felt guilty, haven’t you? Even when we were kids – you felt guilty for being a survivor. Guilty that you were finally feeling _happy_ again, after your parents. Guilty that Jiraiya got hurt. Guilty that you hadn’t learnt enough jutsu, or whatever it is you’re trying to do. It all comes down to that, Orochimaru: your guilt.’

Orochimaru’s teeth gritted together. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. When he small, every inkling of happiness he felt was marred by guilt for his parents. He remembered realising that, when Jiraiya was in hospital when they were Genin, and he’d sobbed into Tsunade for the guilt of _everything_. As he got older, if he failed – failed Hiruzen, his friends, or even Danzo – it was there again. The heavy, inescapable guilt. As for Nawaki, he felt guilty because it was his job to be there for him, and he couldn’t save him. It could have been anyone. Atsuko or Kenji, his other Genin. The pain would be the same.

‘But guilt can be overcome,’ Tsunade continued. ‘It takes work, but you’ll get there.’

He knew she wasn’t being condescending, but it came across that way to an increasingly cagey Orochimaru. She was acting as though it was the simplest thing in the world – as if his guilt hadn’t driven him to sleepless nights, into forging his whole mantra of becoming strong. It was a part of him, like the heart beating in his chest. It couldn’t be ripped from its host without a heavy cost.

‘And you think that would fix our friendship?’ he said testily.

‘I think it would fix _you_.’

Snapping, Orochimaru slammed his hands on her desk, ignoring the pain shooting up his broken arm. ‘You’re not a damn psychologist, Tsunade! Don’t speak of things you understand nothing about!’

Tsunade, who had jumped about a foot in the air at his sudden movement, went on the offensive. ‘ _I_ don’t understand?’ she spluttered. ‘Are you kidding me? This isn’t like when we were children, Orochimaru – this – this isn’t like when I couldn’t even fathom what you’ve lost. I _know_ what’s it like.’

‘How could you?’ Orochimaru snarled. ‘You’ve never lost someone on your watch! Someone who was your responsibility! And to make it a hundred – no, a million – times worse, that someone meant the world to my best friend! Do you have any idea what that’s like?! To carry that around? It’s _hell_ , Tsunade! I can feel his dead weight in my arms! I can smell the blood! I – I can see his face, and that _cursed_ necklace of yours doesn’t help anything!’

He was breathing hard, hardly appreciating what he’d said at all until the words were expelled from his trembling lips, hanging low and weighty in the air. Tsunade looked at Orochimaru with an unreadable expression on her face. He could see she was absorbing all he’d said, likely forming a response. But he didn’t want that. All he wanted was to right his wrongs, and she couldn’t help him do that. She couldn’t do anything.

It was only when she was hugging him that he realised she could do something, after all.

‘Oro,’ she whispered, his nickname as warm as her embrace. ‘It’s…well, it’s not alright, not by a long shot, but this? This is a _start_. I’m not trying to fix you. I’m trying to help you.’

He was rigid in her arms, the cold crystal of her necklace digging against the hollow of his neck. Even in that place of security, there was something foreign there, squeezing through the gaps and darkening the moment. _Help me? Has anyone truly tried to help me before?_

When she pulled away, he realised she had had tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away impatiently.

‘Listen to me,’ she said, her voice wavering, ‘and listen close. I’m…I’m not saying things will go back to normal, but we can _try_. We’re on the same page, now, aren’t we? We understand each other?’

_I don’t think I’ll ever understand you - the girl who befriended a loner like me._

‘We can move forward,’ she said, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself as well as him. ‘I know how you’re feeling, or at least, I can try to understand it. That’s the first step, Oro.’

_The first step towards what? You already said things won’t go back to normal. What’s the point?_

‘But first,’ she continued, her tone more playful as she poked him in the chest, ‘ _you_ need to promise not to flinch away from me like I’m beset with the pox every time you see me, alright? It does nothing for a girl’s confidence.’

Weakly, wordlessly, Orochimaru nodded. For himself or for her, he wasn’t certain.

‘And in return,’ she said softly, moving to fiddle around the back of her neck, ‘I’ll promise to keep this out of sight when I’m with you. Deal?’

Orochimaru’s eyes widened when she took off the necklace and stuffed it in her pocket. He knew how much it meant to her. The memories it carried. For her to do that was more momentous, more touching, than any of her words. _She’s serious about this_.

His voice thick, Orochimaru replied, ‘deal.’

*

True to her word, Tsunade arranged for the three of them to have an evening out in the Village together a few days later. Orochimaru’s arm was in a cast, so he was spending most of his time running basic errands for Danzo – and research in his own time – while Jiraiya was trying to do as Tsunade suggested: spend time with Benjiro. Both were feeling a little lighter.

‘Hate to break it to you, guys,’ Jiraiya grinned, downing the last of his beer, ‘but my pockets are empty. If you want another round, I can’t partake.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Tsunade said, digging in her pockets. ‘We’re only doing this to welcome you home, idiot. I’ll buy you a drink.’

‘A ‘welcome home’ party several months late?’ Jiraiya snorted.

‘Better than nothing,’ Orochimaru smiled. He and Tsunade were sat next to each other in a small booth, opposite Jiraiya, who had had a huge grin plastered on his face from the moment they’d invited him out. The bar Tsunade had chosen was fairly low-key – which was nice, since the three of them often attracted attention from their fellow Shinobi – and there was excitable buzz about the place. And Orochimaru felt – there was no other phrase for it – at home. For the first time in a long, long time. To say he and Tsunade were miraculously mended again isn’t true, but he was working on it. With her help, he hoped they could become three again.

‘Thanks for suggesting this, Tsu. Seriously,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Things have been mental recently, what with Pa and my work, so, it’s nice to just…kick back, I guess.’

‘And be free of Akari’s clutches for one evening,’ Tsunade smirked.

‘She isn’t _that_ bad,’ Jiraiya pouted. ‘She just likes to spend time with me, which makes a change, since you two didn’t exactly put in the effort.’

‘What’s all this, then?’ Tsunade challenged, raising her eyebrows and gesturing over the alcohol and food laden table.

Jiraiya couldn’t help but grin. ‘Touché.’

‘I’m surprised you got the day off, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said. ‘The way everyone’s been going on, I’m amazed the Hospital can function without you.’

‘I’ve got tomorrow off too, as it happens,’ Tsunade said. ‘You know, just in case this turns into a heavy night.’

‘I’ll say,’ Orochimaru mumbled, watching nervously as she gulped down the last of her drink. She had drunk more than he and Jiraiya combined, and they’d only been there for an hour. It would have been impressive if he wasn’t worried.

Reading his expression, Jiraiya jabbed his foot against Orochimaru’s leg under the table. ‘Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Oro. Let the girl enjoy a drink from time to time!’

‘I’ll toast to that,’ Tsunade grinned.

‘Best get some more drinks in first, else we’ll have nothing to toast with,’ Jiraiya winked.

Orochimaru tried to supress it, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly anxious as he watched her wobble her way to the bar. Jiraiya didn’t know it, for he hadn’t been around, but Orochimaru had seen Tsunade stumble home on more than one occasion. He even spotted her in a gambling house, once. Of course, when he tried to bring it up when they ran into each other outside Hiruzen’s office, her back went up immediately. He didn’t press the issue.

‘You worry too much,’ Jiraiya said, noting his expression. ‘This is the first time the three of us have been together since I got home, you know, so you might as well try and relax a bit.’

‘‘Relax’?’ Orochimaru smirked. ‘That’s not a word I have in my vocabulary.’

‘I’m sensing that,’ Jiraiya said. ‘That Danzo really has you running around a lot, huh?’

Orochimaru tensed slightly. Discussing his work under Danzo always made him a little on edge – he half expected the man himself to pop up and chastise him should he ever breathe a word of his duties to someone outside of Root. So, he just shrugged.

‘Still, that seems to be the way,’ Jiraiya continued, leaning back in his seat with a lazy expression. ‘I mean, if I’m not running around trying to find the Child of Prophecy, Sarutobi-sensei has me doing all sorts of errands. And Tsunade is pretty much the beating heart of the Village. Adulthood kind of sucks, doesn’t it?’

Orochimaru found himself smiling. ‘It certainly doesn’t bode well for free time. Have you had any luck, by the way, with this Child of Prophecy?’

Jiraiya let out a long and weary sigh that seemed to deflate his large frame. ‘Once or twice, I thought I’d met someone who fit the bill. But it always fell through in the end. I’m having more luck writing my books, to be honest!’

‘May the Gods help us,’ Orochimaru smirked.

‘Hey! I’m a brilliant writer!’ Jiraiya pouted.

‘Surprising, since you couldn’t spell until you were a Chuunin.’

Jiraiya was about to produce a scathing response, but he was interrupted when he heard Tsunade’s raised voice at the bar.

‘Uh oh,’ he gulped, grabbing Orochimaru by his arm and hauling him to his feet.

‘Ow!’ Orochimaru hissed, as Jiraiya’s hand closed around his cast. ‘Watch my arm, you idiot!’

‘It’s not your arm I’m worried about!’

Orochimaru followed Jiraiya and discovered what he was so concerned about. Tsunade had caught a wailing man by the wrist in her iron grip, and was twisting his arm at what must have been a very painful angle, given the man’s reaction. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, and the onlookers were looking quite terrified.

‘I told you once, you creep,’ she hissed. ‘Keep your damn hands to yourself!’

The man thrashed against her grip, but it was useless. Even without Tsunade’s monster strength, the hold she had him in was a difficult one to get out of, even for a trained Shinobi. The man, who had a ratty appearance and greasy hair, certainly did not have the countenance to be a Shinobi.

‘I didn’t do anything!’ he whined. ‘I only asked if you wanted a drink!’

‘Oh yeah? And what part of a question involves your sweaty little hands going somewhere they shouldn’t, huh?’ she snarled, cracking his arm. The man howled in pain, but no one made a move to help him.

Orochimaru looked from Tsunade to Jiraiya, sweating slightly. ‘Do – do you think we should do something?’

Jiraiya, who had paused once they reached the bar, had a very peculiar expression on his face. Orochimaru couldn’t decide whether it was amusement or anger. He folded his arms, leaning back against a bar stool.

‘Actually,’ he said, drumming his fingers against his bicep, ‘I think we’ll let Tsu handle this one.’

Orochimaru cocked his head to one side. He decided, after some examination, that Jiraiya was definitely angrier than he was amused.

‘What if she breaks his arm?’ Orochimaru said.

‘Then he deserves it,’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘Seriously, Oro. This sort of thing has happened more than once. Makes my stomach turn.’

It had happened so often, apparently, that Tsunade had a protocol for it. Seething, she twisted the man’s arm up against his back, and marched him towards the door.

‘Hey!’ the barman said, startled, but suddenly springing into action. ‘You can’t just remove my patrons like that!’

Jiraiya stepped forward and put a hand against the barman’s chest, raising his eyebrows. ‘I wouldn’t try and stop her if I were you, buddy. Or do you want Princess Tsunade telling everyone that your establishment supports sleazy creeps like that, huh?’

The barman looked as though he wanted to protest, but decided it wasn’t worth it. If Jiraiya’s intimidating presence didn’t scare him off, the reaction from the other customers would – they were clearly all for Tsunade’s violent actions, and a few were even cheering her on.

Tsunade kicked the door open with a bang, and threw the man out onto the street. He landed with a yelp in the dirt, cradling his mangled arm.

‘Try anything like that again, and I’ll break more than your arm,’ Tsunade snarled, cracking her knuckles.

The man, who had scrambled to his feet, managed to look rather indignant.

‘That is assault!’ he shrieked, his arm hanging limply by his side. ‘Just because you’re a Shinobi, it doesn’t mean you can treat the rest of us like dirt!’

Jiraiya, who had come up behind Tsunade in support, glared at the man with withering contempt. He looked genuinely dangerous. ‘What _you_ did was assault. And you can’t go around treating people like dirt without a consequence.’

‘Exactly,’ Tsunade spat. ‘By all means, bring this up with the authorities. I’d _love_ to see you squirm under the Uchihas.’

The man opened his mouth to say more, but he closed it when he realised the sticky situation he was in. Huffing, he brushed down his dusty trousers with his good arm, before turning on his heels and stomping from the bar. Cheers erupted from behind them, and Jiraiya turned and smirked at the enthusiasm of the other patrons. They had every right to be impressed – it wasn’t every day that they got to see justice being served. He glanced at Tsunade, who was running a hand through her hair.

‘Drink?’ he said, a little cautiously.

‘Please,’ she sighed.

They re-joined Orochimaru – after Tsunade had received several pats on the back for a job well done ( _Oh, he’s been doing that for years! Deserved everything he got!_ ) – and a slightly awkward silence fell over the three of them. Orochimaru had absolutely no idea what had transpired, being as dense as he was, and Jiraiya was trying to find the words that wouldn’t rile Tsunade any more than she already had been. He swallowed nervously, feeling like he was about to partake in bear-baiting.

‘So, Tsunade…’ he said, clearing his throt. ‘You, er, beat up creeps regularly, do you?’ 

There was a moment of silence, before Tsunade burst out laughing. Jiraiya blinked at her in surprise, before he started laughing as well, solely because of the ridiculousness of the situation. Orochimaru, not wanting to be left out, chuckled along too.

‘You’d be surprised,’ Tsunade said breathlessly, taking a sip of the whisky Jiraiya had bought. ‘You’d think daylight assault would catch up to me in the end, but no one ever reports me.’

‘Probably because people have a conscience and realise that people like him ought to be stopped,’ Jiraiya said.

‘That, and they’re terrified of you,’ Orochimaru said coolly.

Tsunade snorted into her drink, shaking her head. ‘Honestly, this sort of thing happens a lot. I’m thinking of starting up some self-defence classes for the villagers, run by Shinobi – nothing complicated, just the basics. With my inheritance, I can just about fund anything these days.’

‘Yeah, but haven’t you got a million other projects going on at the moment?’ Jiraiya said. ‘It’s a good idea, but you don’t want to burn yourself out.’ 

‘I welcome the distraction,’ Tsunade said, draining her glass and reaching for more whisky. It was an expensive blend – rather contrary to Jiraiya’s previous assertion that he was out of money. ‘And besides, I want to do as much as I can before we’re all inevitably sent off to war.’

‘Keep your voice down, Tsunade. We don’t want to freak anyone out,’ Jiraiya said sternly.

‘What?’ Tsunade shrugged. ‘You know it, I know it – hell, most the Shinobi in Konoha know it. There is something big on the horizon, and we have to be ready to meet it.’

Orochimaru looked at them in confusion. ‘What are you two talking about?’

Tsunade and Jiraiya glanced at each other. 

‘What, you don’t know? Have you been living under a rock?’ Tsunade said.

‘I’ve been working for Lord Danzo,’ Orochimaru said tersely.

‘And you haven’t noticed anything unusual? You know, with the state of the Five Great Nations?’ Tsunade replied.

Orochimaru felt rather out of the loop. ‘My missions are done in complete secrecy, Tsunade. I hardly have time to go on a tour of the places I’m sent to. I go in and I get out. It’s a simple as that.’

‘What Tsu means, Oro,’ Jiraiya said, letting out a sigh, ‘is that there are tensions brewing between us, Sunagakure and Iwagakure.’

‘Aren’t there always?’ Orochimaru said indifferently.

‘Not like this,’ Tsunade said, an edge to her voice. ‘Things have been on a knife’s edge for years – the business with the Inoshishi, where we left those foreign Shinobi imprisoned – being one of the many incidents to tip the scales. Then, Iwagakure’s attack on you and you team only worsened the issue.’ Her hand tightened around her glass at the mention of the attack, and she downed her drink in one go with a shudder.

‘I’ve seen a lot on my travels,’ Jiraiya continued. ‘I was always in contact with Sarutobi-sensei as I went from place to place, and he had me running some reconnaissance. I’ve been sworn to secrecy, obviously, but…well, I dunno. Tsunade is right, though – something is coming, and we have to be ready for it.’

Orochimaru absorbed the news with a sip of whisky. It was a little strong for him and burned down his throat. He closed his eyes. It made sense, really. Peace was a fragile thing, and would never last for long. But if three of the Five Great Nations went to war, it would leave a scar on the map for all of time. Another Shinobi War. More loss. Another turn of the endless cycle of destruction.

‘How long do you think we have?’ he asked eventually.

‘It’s impossible to tell,’ Jiraiya said. ‘But, if people like that Danzo of yours has it their way, Konoha will be the one to strike first.’

‘Guess we better drink to oblivion, then,’ Tsunade said, her words slurred. Orochimaru narrowed his eyes at her.

‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’ he said.

Tsunade pouted at him, a dull blush dusting over her cheeks. ‘Aw, you’re no fun. This isn’t like when were underage. You don’t have to be such a bore, Oro.’

‘I’m not being a bore!’ Orochimaru huffed. When he caught the look of amusement on Jiraiya’s face, he felt a flare of confidence. Huffing, he reached forward and prised the bottle of whisky from Tsunade’s hand (much to her irritation) and took a large gulp from it. Unfortunately, he mistimed his chug, and it went down the wrong way. Orochimaru lurched forward and choked, spluttering whisky all over the table with a spectacular cough.

‘Orochimaru!’ Tsunade howled. ‘That was _such_ a waste! Don’t drink it if you can’t handle it!’

Jiraiya, meanwhile, was wiping whisky from his face. He had been directly in the line of fire, being opposite Orochimaru, and was paying the price. He didn’t seem to mind much, though, since he was hooting with laughter.

‘It’s not funny!’ Orochimaru said hotly, as Jiraiya doubled over with tears in his eyes.

‘You should have seen the look on your face!’ Jiraiya chuckled. ‘You looked like you were being strangled!’

‘We’ll have to get more, now,’ Tsunade said mournfully, uselessly shaking the empty bottle. She slumped her chin in her hand. ‘Way to go, Oro.’

‘It wasn’t my fault!’ Orochimaru protested. ‘I – it didn’t – it tasted a lot stronger than what I’m used to!’

‘Alright, alright,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘You have a point. You’ve gotta have balls of steel to drink that stuff straight.’

‘Makes sense,’ Orochimaru said weakly, watching Tsunade trying to empty the dregs from the bottle into her mouth.

‘Oh, boo,’ she groaned. ‘That was a good bottle and everything.’

‘I’m surprised you noticed, the rate you’re drinking it,’ Jiraiya smirked.

‘You’re one to talk!’ Tsunade said. ‘You’ve had nearly as much as me!’

‘Yeah, but I’m probably like five stone heavier than you,’ Jiraiya snorted.

‘Let’s just agree to disagree,’ Orochimaru said lamely. ‘If you want another drink, Tsu – not that I’d advise it – then go and get one. But maybe get some food as well, to help soften the blow.’

‘Oh, yeah!’ Jiraiya exclaimed, punching the air. ‘Get some dumplings, will you? Ooh – or takoyaki! See if they have takoyaki!’

Tsunade flapped her hands at him in dismissal, before stumbling to her feet. Looking very much like a new-born foal stumbling around trying to balance, she returned to the bar yet again, this time without any creeps waiting to announce their affections. Still, Orochimaru stared after her rather worriedly.

‘Do you think I should go with her? I’m more sober than you,’ Orochimaru said, as Tsunade walked into a table and swore so severely that several nearby patrons gasped in shock. Jiraiya, who was feeling that warmth associated with the precipice of drunkenness, nodded his head slowly.

‘You’d better,’ he said, craning his head back sleepily. ‘She’s a bit loose with her money at the best of times, let alone drunk. She’ll buy the whole place if we’re not careful.’

Orochimaru looked at Jiraiya fondly as the man closed his eyes, a look of peace on his features. His face was reddened from the alcohol and his shirt was opened further than usual, exposing the top of his chest and his sharp collarbone. Orochimaru blushed and shook his head, before heading after Tsunade. Jiraiya opened one eye and watched him go.

When he arrived, he walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder (which, given recent events, was probably a mistake). She whirled around with a flick of her ponytail and nearly smacked him, but he ducked just in time.

‘Easy, Tsunade!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m just here to lend a hand!’

Tsunade looked appropriately guilty. ‘Oops. Sorry, Oro. I’m just on guard. If _anyone_ , and I mean _anyone_ – well, apart from maybe that nice-looking man over there in the corner – tries any funny business, I will not be responsible for my actions.’

‘Fear not, I believe you,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Did you order already?’

‘No,’ Tsunade scowled, slumping against the bar. ‘That jerk of a barman doesn’t like me now. Keeps serving other people. See – look! We got here before that girl! If he’s not careful, I’ll give him a piece of my mind!’

Orochimaru looked fairly alarmed as Tsunade began rolling up her sleeves, as if to deal several lethal blows, and he quickly slipped into the space between her and the girl the barman was serving. He noticed that the young woman was rather pretty, with a pleasant face and dyed blonde hair styled in a pixie cut. Tsunade noticed her attractiveness, too. Her anger towards the barman now apparently fickle, a coprophagous grin spread over her features, and she jabbed Orochimaru in the ribs with her elbow.

‘Hey,’ she hissed, leaning in close to his ear. ‘She’s cute. Isn’t she cute? She’s definitely cute.’

‘And you’re definitely drunk,’ Orochimaru said, wrinkling his nose at the smell of alcohol on her breath. ‘Remind me to order some water with our food, alright?’

‘No, no, you don’t understand,’ Tsunade said, leaning against him. Orochimaru averted his eyes from her chest as it pressed up against his side and couldn’t help but think about how gleeful Jiraiya would have been in his shoes.

‘What don’t I understand?’ he said, appeasing her.

‘That you could totally make a move!’ Tsunade slurred, grabbing onto his non-injured arm and tugging it. ‘C’mon, Oro, she’s so pretty! And you’re pretty, too! It’s a match made in heaven, right?’

‘I – what – I’m not pretty!’ Orochimaru spluttered, going red.

‘Shut up. You are,’ Tsunade said, suddenly seeming a little abrasive. ‘You’ve got pretty hair and glowing skin that actually seriously pissed me off because I bet you don’t have a skincare routine but you _still_ look nicer than me and your eyes are really cool and unique and -’ Tsunade cut off on the account that she hadn’t taken a breath. Orochimaru blinked at her. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn she was flirting with him. But even he could read those sorts of signs, and Tsunade definitely felt nothing but platonic affection from him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little touched that she thought so highly of his appearance.

‘Well, thanks,’ he said, as Tsunade sprawled over the bar again. ‘But appearance aside, that is no reason to – er – ‘make a move’, as you said.’

‘Ugh, just take a risk once in a while, won’t you?’ Tsunade complained. ‘Seriously. I swear you’ve been single your entire life.’

‘And you haven’t?’ Orochimaru challenged.

Tsunade jerked her head up and glared at him reproachfully. ‘Just because I’ve not had a long-term relationship, it doesn’t mean I’ve remained single this whole time. I _have_ been with people, you know.’

Orochimaru blinked at her. ‘What? If you’ve never been in a relationship, how have you not stayed single?’

Tsunade rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come on. Do the maths, Oro.’

Orochimaru did indeed do the maths, and a look of bashful understanding dawned over his face. ‘Ah. Well. I see. How…nice for you.’

Tsunade snorted with laughter, straightening up from the alcohol-sticky bar and shaking her head at him. ‘Yeah, that’s one word for it. But anyway, this isn’t about me! It’s about _you_! And – quick! Look, she’s gonna leave!’

‘Tsunade, I’m not -’

‘ – hey!’ Tsunade called, interrupting his protests and shoving herself past him. ‘You! Short-haired girl!’

‘Tsunade, please! Stop it!’ Orochimaru hissed, hauling her back and planting a hand over her mouth. To his intense mortification, the young woman and had looked over at the sound of Tsunade’s call, and gaped at them in confusion. Her expression turned to one of contempt when she saw the way Orochimaru had hold of Tsunade around her middle, his hand clasped over her mouth.

‘Oi!’ she said, looking thunderous. ‘You let her go at once, you hear?!’

Poor Orochimaru leapt back and released Tsunade as if someone had electrocuted her. He felt judgemental eyes on him and began to sweat slightly.

‘Sheesh, you can’t catch a break, can you?’ the young woman said, looking Tsunade up and down. ‘You alright? You can clearly handle yourself, but if you want a hand, let me know.’ She shot daggers at Orochimaru, who gulped.

‘Nah, it’s no problem!’ Tsunade said, grabbing Orochimaru’s hand and yanking him forward. ‘He’s my friend! An all-round great guy – and one hell of a Shinobi, you know? A good catch if you ask me! I can vouch for him!’

The girl looked between them curiously – from Orochimaru’s increasingly embarrassed expression and Tsunade’s drunk grin – and she nodded slowly, hands on hips.

‘Ah, I see what’s going on here,’ she said, as the barman (who was watching the exchange with avid interest) prepared her drink.

‘You do?’ Tsunade beamed.

‘I hope not,’ Orochimaru squeaked.

The girl smirked, her hands on her hips as her gaze raked up and down Orochimaru’s figure. ‘Yeah. I do. And I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not interested.’

Orochimaru sighed with relief. ‘Right. Yes. Good. Thanks. Anyway -’ he stammered, trying desperately to steer Tsunade away from the young woman. But Tsunade had other plans.

‘What? Why not?’ she squawked. ‘He’s great, honestly! Yeah, he’s awkward as hell and rough around the edges and has no idea how to talk to anyone he doesn’t already know, but I promise he’s really cool!’

‘Gee, thanks for that, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru muttered.

The girl raised her eyebrows, a coy smile on her lips. ‘Because he’s just not my type, I’m afraid. Sorry.’

‘No need to apologise!’ Orochimaru said, waving his hands. ‘I’m sorry for bothering you.’

The young woman shrugged, her eyes swivelling from Orochimaru to Tsunade, regarding her coolly. ‘You, on the other hand, are more than welcome to look me up any time you feel like it. Have a good night.’ With a wink, she patted Tsunade’s warm cheek, and sauntered back to her table.

Tsunade stared after her, her mouth open. ‘Huh. Didn’t see that coming. Sorry, Oro – looks like you’re not her cup of tea.’

‘Which is what I was trying to tell you in the first place,’ Orochimaru said, through gritted teeth. He didn’t appreciate how many people were glaring at him as if he was some sort of predator.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Tsunade slurred, slamming her hands on the bar to get some attention. ‘I’ll not play Cupid again, m’kay?’

‘You better not,’ Orochimaru seethed.

‘But you know,’ Tsunade said, stroking her cheek where the woman had touched it, ‘you’ve never shown _any_ interest in girls, cute or not. And like, not to be vain or anything, but I’ve never caught you looking at me in _that_ way. Even when these came in.’ She looked down at her chest with a frown, and back at Orochimaru, whose gaze was about as far away from her chest as it could get. She narrowed her eyes at him. Drunk or not, Tsunade wasn’t stupid.

‘Say,’ she said, jabbing his forehead, ‘is there anyone you’re interested in? Like, at all? You can tell me, you know.’

Orochimaru felt his face heat up. This was very dangerous territory. He knew exactly who he liked – despite years and years of denial – but he was hardly willing to accept it himself, let alone tell Tsunade. He wasn’t sure how she would react. She had grown up in a conservative and traditional household, after all, and he wasn’t sure if she’d take the news well. She might be disgusted by him and want to put an end to their friendship just as they were beginning to repair it. Or, she might laugh at him and call him a fool for even entertaining such feelings. He shook his head frantically.

‘Not a soul,’ he said assertively, praying to every deity he could think of that his eyes didn’t accidently steer towards Jiraiya.

Had Tsunade been sober, she might have seen through him. Instead, she just shrugged. ‘Well, you do you, Oro. I just don’t want you to end up alone. I know that’s hard for you.’

Orochimaru felt oddly touched by her sentiment. ‘Fear not, Tsunade. I’ll be just fine.’

‘And you can tell me anything, yeah?’ Tsunade continued, her words slurring together. ‘Like, I know things are weird, but I’m here for you. And I won’t tell anyone else.’

A smile played on Orochimaru’s lips. ‘I’d be surprised if you’ll remember anything from this night, Tsu.’

‘Give over,’ she whined. ‘I’m not _that_ drunk.’ Her words were lessened somewhat by the fact that she tried to lean back on the bar, missed, and whacked her forehead against the bar. She yelped and wobbled to the floor, looking rather dazed. 

‘Tsunade!’ Orochimaru groaned, helping her to her feet as several patrons snickered. ‘Watch yourself, will you? I refuse to carry you home.’

‘I’m fine, honest!’ she said, rubbing the redness on her forehead. ‘I’m just having a good time!’

‘You can do that without getting blackout drunk,’ Orochimaru mumbled, but she didn’t hear him. She was too busy finally giving her order to the ever-exasperated barman. He interjected and insisted she did _not_ need to order ten bottles of their best sake, nor a beverage for everyone in the establishment, and managed to order some takoyaki for Jiraiya. And water. Lots of chilled water.

‘How’d it go?’ Jiraiya grinned, as Orochimaru firmly guided Tsunade back to their table. He was looking murderous and Jiraiya couldn’t help but find it funny.

‘Swimmingly,’ Orochimaru muttered, planting Tsunade down in the seat next to him.

‘C’mon, Oro! Lemme go see that girl who rejected you!’ Tsunade complained, half-heartedly trying to get past him.

‘ _No_ ,’ he said testily, as Jiraiya looked between them in confusion. ‘Besides, our food will be here soon. You don’t want to miss that, do you?’

‘Wait, who rejected you?’ Jiraiya snorted.

‘Someone I didn’t want to interact with in the first place!’ Orochimaru said indignantly. ‘And Tsunade, will you _please_ drink some water already? I don’t want to spend my whole night baby-sitting you.’

Tsunade’s expression suddenly changed and she slumped her face in her hands. ‘Ugh, I even miss baby-sitting him. That’s bad, isn’t it? I used to find it annoying cus’ it meant I wouldn’t have a night off.’

Jiraiya and Orochimaru exchanged a concerned look, realising she was talking about Nawaki. Stealthily, Orochimaru pushed a glass of iced water towards her, and lay a hand on her back.

‘Sip it slowly,’ he said. ‘You’ll start to feel better.’

Sniffing, Tsunade looked up from her hands, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with grief. ‘Is it alcoholic?’

‘It’s water.’

‘Then I don’t want it.’

Orochimaru pressed his lips together. He went to open his mouth to argue, but felt Jiraiya’s foot pressing against his shin. _No_ , he mouthed, shaking his head. He stared at him over the table, trying to read him. What would either of them gain from having to look after Tsunade? If anything, she became increasingly harder to handle when she was drunk. Or did he merely think it wasn’t worth the effort? Sighing, Orochimaru withdrew his hand and decided not to press the issue.

‘What did you order?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘What you asked for,’ Orochimaru shrugged. ‘I had to stop our dear friend here from buying a round for the entire bar, but we got there in the end.’

Jiraiya grinned. ‘Well, that be one way to cheer everyone up. There’s a weird sort of energy around Konoha at the moment, isn’t there?’

‘I’ll say,’ Tsunade mumbled, blindly reaching for the bottle of sake. ‘Probably cus’ of the impending doom. It’s hard to miss, even for the villagers. Something in the air and all that.’

‘You think?’ Orochimaru frowned.

‘Oh yeah,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘The universe leaves signs when its preparing for devastation.’

Jiraiya quirked an eyebrow. ‘That was oddly poetic, Tsu.’

‘Clearly I’m a better writer than you’ll ever be,’ she replied, the twinkle returning to her eye.

‘Hmph. It’s probably the drink talking,’ Jiraiya scowled.

The three of them sat in the bar for hours, talking about everything and nothing, and all the while, a pulsing bubble of emotion was rising at the table, waiting to burst. It might have been the alcohol, or the warmth of the bar, or the fact they hadn’t sat down and _talked_ in so long, but something was shifting in the air. It wasn’t ‘impending doom’, though, as Tsunade said. It was fondness. Calmness. Affection. A fleeting return to normality, before it would be ripped from them once more.

But there was another growing emotion, too. Orochimaru felt it most acutely. More and more, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Jiraiya. There was a new air of confidence about him, something he’d brought back with him on his travels, and a grounded sense of purpose that could almost make him seem wise, in the right light. And the glowing brightness of the bar _was_ the right light. Jiraiya looked like a Prince who had been brewing for greatness all of his life. It was in his dark eyes, his white hair, his easy smile. Orochimaru was encompassed and the feeling alarmed him greatly. That emotion, the tension, threatened to choke him. He knew Jiraiya was feeling it too, but not for him. _As if it ever would be_. All the while, Orochimaru had seen how Jiraiya’s eyes never strayed from Tsunade’s. He was drinking her in, an expression of more than just yearning on his face. His affections towards her had transcended from a casual, childhood crush. Orochimaru knew that. And it felt like someone was twisting his broken arm every time he realised it. Old wounds, opened again.

*

Several hours later, Orochimaru and Jiraiya supported Tsunade out of the bar, one of her arms over each of their shoulders. It was closing time and the streets of Konoha were dark, cool, and relatively empty.

‘Hey, Oro,’ Tsunade smirked, her voice dreary.

‘What is it, Tsunade?’ he replied wearily.

‘I thought you said you weren’t gonna carry me home?’

She was giggling, and Orochimaru rolled his eyes. ‘Be careful or I’ll drop you.’

Jiraiya was feeling less than sober himself, but at least he could walk without aid, even if it wasn’t in a straight line. He was feeling giddy with a mixture of happiness, alcohol, and the ever-persistent worry for Benjiro. He tried to put it to the back of his mind as he enjoyed his night with his old friends, but it was like he kept seeing something in the corner of his eye, just out sight.

‘Should we take her home?’ Orochimaru asked. ‘She’s pretty out of it. Might be better if we dropped her off at Lady Uzumaki’s.’

‘Oro, you’ve known Mito for years,’ Jiraiya smirked. ‘You can stop with the title.’

‘No, no!’ Tsunade protested, struggling from their grip. ‘Don’t take me to Grandmother’s! She’ll insist on having a stern talk about drinking if you do that!’

‘She might have a point,’ Orochimaru sighed.

‘Don’t worry, Tsu, we’ll take you back to your apartment,’ Jiraiya said. Tsunade breathed a sigh of relief and seemed to deflate a little in their arms, allowing them to support her weight. He smiled at her, resisting the urge to brush a loose strand of her hair from her eyes for fear of losing his hand. She was a bit of a mess, but he didn’t look much better. He had spilt some of the takoyaki sauce down his front, and he was very aware that his hair was looking more AWOL than normal. He paid little attention to himself, though – he was too busy being enthralled by his teammate.

It took them some time to stagger back to Tsunade’s – mainly because the girl in question kept wanting to stop at every bar they passed – and, once they had, she wanted to keep the party going. Orochimaru had to get rather stern in his assertion that they would _not_ be drinking until dawn, that he didn’t care how much sake she had stored for such an occasion, and that if she _did_ cry when they left, as she threatened to a sympathetic Jiraiya, he would tell Mito just how much the bar tab came to. So, eventually, Tsunade yielded with a pout.

‘You guys are no fun!’ she exclaimed. ‘The sun isn’t even up yet!’

‘Which means you need to shut up, go inside, and go to bed before you wake up all your neighbours,’ Orochimaru hissed.

Tsunade glared at him, folding her arms. She opened her mouth to argue, but Orochimaru held up a finger and pressed it over her lips. ‘Hush, Tsunade, or I’ll drag you all the way to Lady Uzumaki’s and leave you on the doorstep. Clear?’

Jiraiya, who had to bite the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing at Orochimaru’s boldness, leant forward and patted Tsunade’s shoulder. ‘He is right, Tsu. And don’t sweat it – there will be other nights we can spend drinking ‘till dawn, if that’s what you really want. But for now, get some shut eye. And drink some water.’

Tsunade stifled a yawn, suddenly realising how tired she was feeling. All the extra work she had been doing, along with the emotional turmoil of patching things up with Orochimaru, were finally taking their toll. Add alcohol into the mix, and she was certain she would sleep like a log.

‘Oh, alright,’ she sighed. ‘But you two get home safe. Breakfast at Kano’s?’

‘You betcha,’ Jiraiya grinned. As they waved goodbye to her, Jiraiya leant in close to Orochimaru, and whispered, ‘I don’t betcha at all, you know. She’ll have an absolute stinker of a hangover and she _definitely_ won’t be up for breakfast.’

Orochimaru chuckled softly, watching as Tsunade continued to wave merrily from the doorway. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Tsunade loves Kano’s. I doubt she’d let anything get in the way of her and their famous all-you-can-eat buffet.’

‘She blows my mind, you know,’ Jiraiya sighed, gazing up at the sky. ‘I mean, she’s an absolute mess right now, but she still looks beautiful. Kind of annoying, huh?’

Orochimaru’s smile slid off his face. ‘More annoying that you know.’

Jiraiya was rather taken-aback by his tone. He stretched his arms behind his head and snuck a glance at his brooding teammate, sensing an odd energy about him. ‘Really? Does it bug you then? I don’t wanna make you feel like a third wheel or anything, but if I’m irritating you, just say.’

Orochimaru felt heat in his face. Dangerous territory for him yet again. ‘It’s not that. I just – I wonder how appropriate it is for you to talk about her in such a way.’

‘I only called her beautiful,’ Jiraiya frowned. ‘What’s the big deal?’

_The big deal is that I’m tired of you admiring her when I am right in front of you._ ‘It’s a big deal because you’re literally in a relationship, Jiraiya. How’d you think Akari would react if she caught you saying such things? Or if she saw the way you were looking at her?’

It was Jiraiya’s turn to feel caught off-guard. ‘What do you mean, the way I was looking at her? It’s normal for a guy to admire a pretty girl, even if you don’t.’

Orochimaru’s jaw tensed. ‘Come on, Jiraiya. I nearly had to ask you to put your tongue back in. _I_ don’t care, but if Tsunade was sober, she’d probably clobber you. And I don’t think it’s very respectful towards Akari, for that matter.’

‘Since when do you care about Akari?’ Jiraiya scoffed.

‘I care more than you do, apparently.’

‘That isn’t true!’ Jiraiya said, anger creeping into his tone. ‘It’s just – Akari and I – we – she – oh, it’s hard to explain. We never actually made it official, you know? Yeah, I kissed her and yeah, we have fun together, but we…she just sort of assumed we were an item.’

‘And was it so hard for you to tell her you weren’t?’ Orochimaru shot back. ‘You could have easily cleared things up with her, but you’ve been ‘together’ for three months, Jiraiya. You’ve had plenty of time to be honest with her.’

‘Three months? You been keeping tabs on our ‘relationship’ or something, huh?’ Jiraiya said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Orochimaru said hotly. ‘You got together when you retuned home, and that was three months ago. I just did the maths.’

‘We aren’t _together_ ,’ Jiraiya affirmed.

‘Oh yeah? Then why don’t you try telling her that?’ Orochimaru challenged.

Jiraiya shook his head, running a hand through his hair. ‘It’s not that simple. She really likes me and I don’t want to hurt her. Besides – and this is going to sound very selfish, so you better not repeat it – but I…like the attention. I like it when she compliments me. I like it when she holds me and kisses me. It’s so _not_ what I’m used to, that I…I kind of got used to it. Tsunade is always so cold towards me. It’s nice to feel a little warmth for once.’

Orochimaru was silent for a while, long enough for Jiraiya to feel anxious.

‘Gods, I sound like a jerk, don’t I?’ he said sombrely. ‘Saying it out loud really puts things into perspective. I’m with a girl just because I _like_ to be liked. I’m using her, aren’t I?’

Orochimaru let out a weary sigh, hardly knowing what to say. ‘I’m not exactly the best person to talk to about these things, as you so blatantly insinuated. But you’re not a jerk, Jiraiya. You’re human. It’s normal to enjoy being liked.’

‘Yeah,’ Jiraiya huffed. ‘But at the expense of someone else? Seems harsh.’

‘Maybe,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘Although I think it’s harsher to string Akari along when you’re clearly not in love with her. Being liked aside, you’re toying with her emotions. She worships the ground you walk on, from what I can tell, and if you don’t feel that way about her – if you’re not all in – then you have no right to be liked by her.’

Jiraiya swallowed thickly, eyes glued to the inky-black sky above. It was a cloudy daybreak, but fresh, and the quietness of the Village made his confession feel all the more real. ‘I know. I know you’re right. But part of me feels like I should try with Akari, you know? It’s not like Tsunade is going to accept me, not after all this time.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Orochimaru said, his own hope for himself and his desires sneaking into the conversation.

‘I do,’ Jiraiya said dryly. ‘I know it, but I still can’t help it. I wish I could just switch it all off, you know? Let her go.’

‘I know,’ Orochimaru murmured. ‘You wish you could train your mind to stop thinking about her. You wish you could rip her from the picture of your future you’ve conjured up based on your affections. You wish you could look at her without feeling hopeful, talk to her without your heart beating faster, and ignore that heaviness of jealousy you feel when she’s showing interest in someone else. You wish you could pull the plug. You worry that your pain is on your face, clear for everyone to see. You feel weak. Wounded. And, despite telling yourself every day to move on, to accept it won’t happen, you _still_ find your heart reaching for her. Unrequited love is a gravity well. She pulls you in and you wish you could break away, but you can’t. You just…can’t.’

The birds were beginning to wake up, their soft, promising song echoing about the empty streets of the Village. Dawn was on the cusp of breaking, and the two young men walked slowly, silence building between them like a brick wall. Jiraiya’s throat felt constricted.

‘You’ve hit the nail on the head there, Oro,’ he breathed.

Orochimaru stole a look at Jiraiya and saw tears glinting in his eyes. How he wished he could just reach forward and wipe them away. He clenched his un-injured fist tightly, a tapestry of emotions stitching against his heart and puncturing it like a pin-cushion. Old wounds were being unstitched with every beat of his heart.

‘Let’s just say I know the feeling,’ he muttered.

Jiraiya sighed, neck craned up to the brightening sky. ‘You’ve loved?’

‘Yes. I’ve loved. I…still do.’

‘Truth is,’ Jiraiya swallowed, ‘and as much as I hate to admit it, but I think I’d be lost without Tsunade. She’s been that…I don’t know, that consistency in my life for so long, now. When I think of Konoha, I don’t see the Village. I see her. Everything she is, and everything I hope she’ll become. I know she’ll thrive without me, but I…I still want nothing more than to be by her side.’

Orochimaru felt his heart drum against his throat. He knew exactly what Jiraiya was going through, so much so that he couldn’t tell whether the pain he was feeling was Jiraiya’s or his own.

‘Tsunade will probably never fall in love with me,’ Jiraiya said, half chuckling. ‘And yet, being the idiot that I am, I’ll still move mountains for her. I’ll still love her. That sucks, right? Love shouldn’t be like _this_.’

Orochimaru breathed out shakily. ‘Who’s to say it shouldn’t? Loving from afar is still love, Jiraiya. Though it comes at a heavy cost.’

‘Yeah. A cost that I’d totally pay as well,’ he sighed. ‘Gods. I’m such a fool.’

_More than you know._ ‘There’s nothing wrong with loving. How could there be? It’s the most beautiful thing in the world.’

Jiraiya glanced at him, his expression curious. ‘I gotta say, Oro, I’m surprised you know so much about it. I mean this in the nicest way, but you’re not the warmest guy I’ve ever met. I didn’t realise you’d felt such a way before.’

‘I’m not a robot,’ Orochimaru mumbled. ‘I feel things too.’

‘Yeah, I get that,’ Jiraiya said hastily. ‘I just mean…well, you’re wiser than I give you credit for, eh?’

He nudged him playfully and Orochimaru relished the brief contact.

‘Still,’ Jiraiya sniffed, straightening up, ‘we keep moving forward. Tsunade is who she is and I can’t force her to love me back.’ He paused, and when he continued, his voice was wavering slightly. ‘But…that’s the worst thing, isn’t it?’

‘What is?’ Orochimaru whispered.

Jiraiya tilted his face up to the sky, tears running parallel to the red streaks on his face. ‘Despite it all…I wouldn’t change her for anything.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait a second...3000 hits??? WE DID IT! 🎉🎈 Thank you so much for clicking - and even better, reading - it means a lot to know this fic has reached *that* many people through the crazy reaches of cyberspace! As always, big love to everyone who left a kind comment (for real they're so genuinely lovely) - I'll be sure to reply! 😁  
> Now, enough about me, and more about this roller-coaster of a chapter...a heck of a lot happens! I know I'm the one writing it, but I'm super proud of Tsunade for not getting angry all the time. I'm also proud of Oro for taking that step to talk about his feelings 🥺 And Jiraiya...well, we've all been stung by unrequited love, right? If you haven't, count yourself lucky!😂  
> I also enjoyed setting up Kakashi's birth. According to the time-line I've been using, he is two years younger than the likes of Obito, Asuma, Kurenai etc, but he still ends up in their generation because he graduates so early. And I'm happy to bring Kushina into the mix! Like I've said, they won't get much focus since this is a Sannin fic, but it's good to have them in the background doing their thing.  
> Next chapter, we have the meeting between Dan and Tsunade, which will be interesting, since I don't really ship them lol 😅 But I'll be fair to him, he didn't get a lot of screen time to develop!  
> Anywho, happy reading, stay safe, and see you in 2 weeks ❤


	27. Tactics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiraiya deals with his father's illness, Orochimaru overhears Danzo's nefarious plans, and Tsunade falls head over heels for a certain someone. 
> 
> *WARNING* For depictions of a terminal illness

Chapter 27 – Tactics 

Date: 51 A.K. (After Konoha)

‘Thanks for coming so quickly, Tsu,’ Jiraiya said hastily, throwing open the door to let her in.

‘Don’t mention it,’ Tsunade said, slightly out of breath. ‘Where is he?’

‘In the back room,’ Jiraiya said. ‘He can’t really make it up the stairs these days, so…’ he trailed off, swallowing a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Tsunade nodded and headed through the house. She had spent so many childhood days in and out of the worn corridors of Jiraiya’s home, but never had she felt such trepidation. It was like Benjiro’s illness was sapping the light from the place. The man in question was settled in bed, looking rather worse for wear. He had been battling his illness for nearly two years, defying everyone’s predictions of his life expectancy, but the medicines he was talking were finally catching up to him. He and Tsunade had devised the least invasive care plan they could manage, but it was still impacting on his quality of life, so, as an experiment based on his symptoms and life style, Tsunade had put him on a new course of pills – ones that clearly weren’t agreeing with him.

‘Benjiro,’ Tsunade sighed, kneeling beside the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Did Jiraiya call you here?’ he murmured, dodging her question. ‘That boy…I told him not to disturb you, Tsunade. You have better things to be doing than running around after an old man like me.’

‘You’re not _that_ old,’ Tsunade winked, taking his pulse. ‘And besides, even if you weren’t like family, you’re my patient – and I have to respond when my patients seek help.’

‘I didn’t seek anything,’ Benjiro muttered. ‘Honestly, Jiraiya worries too much. I’m dying. It wasn’t exactly going to be a pain-free experience.’

‘Yes, but I am glad he summoned me,’ Tsunade frowned, her hands glowing blue with medical ninjutsu. ‘Your blood pressure and heart rate have dropped exponentially from the last time you had a check-up, and your capillary refill isn’t too hot, either.’

‘Is that really a reason for Konoha’s best medical ninja to be called out to the outskirts of the Village, hm?’ Benjiro asked, his tired eyes twinkling good-naturedly.

Tsunade smiled, but she was feeling a little anxious. Jiraiya had called for her because Benjiro was experiencing more debilitating symptoms, and hadn’t been able to keep anything down as a result of the medication. The smell of vomit didn’t faze Tsunade one bit, however, since she was used to it. She was more concerned that Benjiro was hot to the touch and shivering.

‘You have a fever,’ she said, withdrawing her hand from his forehead. ‘How long have you been like this?’

‘Three days,’ Jiraiya’s voice came from the doorway. He sounded tired and stern, and Tsunade glanced at him, noting his appearance properly. The young man seemed to be sagging under an invisible weight, his clothes crumpled and creased, and his hair heavy and unbrushed. He had clearly not slept a wink in days – possibly for as long as Benjiro had been suffering from his symptoms – and it showed. Tsunade realised, with a rush of sadness, that she had never seen Jiraiya looked so defeated before.

‘You should have sought help sooner,’ Tsunade said. ‘But before you two bicker about it,’ – she shot a warning glance at a triumphant Jiraiya – ‘we need to work on breaking the fever. Have you been able to keep anything down, Benjiro? Any fluids at all?’

‘No,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘He hasn’t been able to eat anything for days and every time he has a drink – tea, water, whatever – it comes right back up.’

‘I can talk for myself you know, Jiraiya,’ Benjiro said indignantly. ‘I’m not dead yet!’

Jiraiya winced. He knew his father’s morbid jokes were his way of coping with the situation, but for him, it felt like a slap in the face every time he made one. He swallowed thickly, feeling more tired than he ever had in his life – and that includes his time on the road. It was odd, he thought, how he could withstand weeks without proper sleep during his travels, but a few days fretting for his father, and he was beat.

‘You’re severely dehydrated, then, that much is obvious,’ Tsunade concluded. ‘I can’t be sure what’s triggered your vomiting and nausea, but if it is the medication, then we will have to figure out a new plan. And if it is, it would explain why you’re stuck in this vicious cycle – you shouldn’t take those tablets on an empty stomach, and with nothing actually staying in your system, your body isn’t absorbing anything.’

‘Then why’d you put him on those meds in the first place?’ Jiraiya demanded.

Tsunade’s eyebrow twitched in irritation at his accusatory tone, but she put it down to stress. ‘There is no way of knowing how the body will react to foreign substances until they’re consumed. We started the new course of medication based on extensive research and his medical history. It was the most logical step forward – the medication is meant to alleviate his pain.’

‘It’s not doing much good then, is it?’ Jiraiya snapped.

‘You’re in pain too, Benjiro?’ Tsunade said, her gaze falling back to Benjiro. He was looking dangerously thin, and if she wasn’t doing her job, she would have allowed herself to feel grief at the sight of him. Benjiro had always been such a spritely man, full of boundless energy that he’d passed onto his son. She would never forget the words he’d shared with her after Hashirama had fallen ill, all those years ago. _Isn’t the hurt worth the love?_ he had asked, after offering her a hankie. Back then, she didn’t know he was Jiraiya’s father, and she couldn’t have predicated how much of her life he would see. She sighed to herself, reaching for a cool rag to rest on his forehead. 

‘I…yes,’ he admitted, his voice weak. ‘But it’s not the same type of pain. Whatever you gave me did the trick where the pain in my bones and back is concerned, but now, there’s a lot of discomfort in my stomach and throat.’

‘Hm,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘Well, that’s probably because your gut is working overtime to throw up anything you consume, and since there’s nothing in your stomach to digest, you’re likely bringing up gastric acid, which would leave your throat feeling tender and sore. Is the pain severe?’

‘Nothing compared to how it used to be,’ Benjiro said, letting out a dry chuckle. ‘But…I must admit to feeling…very tired.’

‘Not surprising. You’re not getting any energy from eating and you’re dehydrated’ Tsunade said. ‘Plus, this fever is unusual. You might be fighting off an infection somewhere.’ She got to her feet and brushed off her hands, shaking her head. ‘You’re not gonna like it, Benjiro, but I think it’s best we take you to the Hospital. We’ll put you on intravenous fluids to help combat the dehydration, and I’ll reassess these pills we’ve got you on.’

Benjiro’s face fell at the mention of the Hospital. ‘Is that really necessary, Tsunade? I don’t have a lot of time and I don’t really want to waste it being stuck in bed.’

‘You’re stuck in bed right now, Pa,’ Jiraiya said.

‘Yes, but at least it’s in my own home,’ Benjiro said.

‘And that’s not doing you any good, is it?’ Jiraiya hissed. ‘All you do is lie there, too sick to do anything. It’s not like you’ll miss out on anything being at the Hospital.’

‘Easy,’ Tsunade said, holding up a hand towards Jiraiya as she felt a mounting tension waft into the room. ‘Look, I can’t force you to go, Benjiro, but you would be much more comfortable. You might even be able to get back on your feet – literally, that is – but if you stay here, you’re only going to get worse.’

Benjiro winced as he tried to sit up, coughing weakly. ‘I can tell from your tone that you think I’m foolish not to go, hm?’

Tsunade sighed. ‘I don’t think you’re foolish. I think you’re worried about getting stuck there. It’s a valid fear, but you’ll only end up doing more harm than good if you keep putting yourself through unnecessary pain.’

Benjiro chuckled dryly, before the sound peeled off into a cough that racked his body. Tsunade reached over and grabbed a bucket and didn’t react even when Benjiro was violently sick into it. She rubbed his back, whispering soothing words of comfort. Jiraiya sucked in a breath. He felt a bit useless. Tsunade was so quick to offer her diagnosis, and even quicker to provide support, and he could do very little but watch from the doorway and stop himself grimacing from the smell of vomit. He was also finding it increasingly difficult not to argue with his father – he was still under the impression that the operation, 10% success chance though it was, would be better than his current quality of life. But Benjiro was a stubborn man and he was getting tired of the same conversation on permanent repeat. In the end, he earnestly asked Jiraiya to drop it, and drop it he did. But that didn’t stop his worry, or his sleepless nights, or the indescribable relief he felt when Tsunade came to their aid. His life had become a cycle: worry, relief, anger, and worry all over again.

‘You know,’ Benjiro murmured, settling back on the pillows and wiping sweat from his forehead, ‘I never would have imagined that the same little kid I comforted under the Monument would tend at my bedside.’

Tsunade smiled slightly at the memory, and squeezed his hand. ‘And this same little kid wants you to feel as well as you possibly can. You offered me advice back then, Benjiro, and now I want to do the same thing in return: go to the Hospital. I can send someone around later to come and collect you, so you have a chance to gather yourself.’

Tsunade felt Benjiro’s grip weaken against her hold. ‘Between you and I, Tsunade…I rather think I’m a little scared.’

Jiraiya swallowed a lump in his throat, but before he could hear Tsunade’s response, her eyes glassy, there was a loud _tap_ at the door. Tsunade looked up and him and he shrugged, not expecting any guests. He left them talking in low tones – likely things Benjiro couldn’t share with his son for fear of worrying him more – and walked down the hallway.

The house seemed to have shifted off its axis ever since Benjiro had become bedbound. What was once a happy and welcoming place, bursting with fond memories edged with light, had become wary and vexing and wrought with anxiety. The memories hadn’t faded, as such, but whenever Jiraiya remembered something of his father etched into the house, instead of happiness, he felt nothing but misery. He passed the crack in the wall where he, barely fresh out of the Academy, had tried to show off his skills and launched a kunai against the long-gone target. He had been way off, but instead of fussing about the cracked plaster, Benjiro had ruffled his hair and said _try again, son. There’s never any shame in failing so long as you try again_. And try again he did. Time and time again, day after day, year after year, until he became a man he thought Benjiro could be proud of.

Clearing his throat, Jiraiya pulled open the door and found Akari waiting for him.

‘Jiraiya,’ she said, her eyes full of concern, ‘you look…tired.’

‘Understatement of the year,’ Jiraiya said, trying to force a smile. ‘What are you doing here, Akari? Did I miss another date again?’

‘I mean, technically yes,’ Akari said, nibbling her lip, ‘but I can’t exactly blame you, what with everything going on. I just dropped round to check up on the pair of you, you know, in case you needed a spare set of hands.’

Jiraiya sighed. He knew Akari meant well, she truly did, but the last few times she had ‘helped’, she had ended up causing more problems. She didn’t mean to, but she got in the way of the usual routines of the house, and it made Jiraiya frustrated. Plus, she was useless at talking to Benjiro. When she did converse with him, it was in hushed, cooing tones, as though the man was an inadept child. Jiraiya didn’t want to get terse with her and end up hurting her, so he began to limit her exposure to the house. Unfortunately, that meant they hardly saw it each other – a fact that Akari bewailed relentlessly. 

‘I could make tea, or something?’ she said hopefully. ‘Or, better yet, we could go out for tea? Take your mind off things for a while?’

‘I don’t need things off my mind, Akari,’ Jiraiya said, a bite to his tone. ‘I have to be here in case he needs me. You know that.’

He regretted his stern words almost immediately, but exhaustion and worry had been burrowing away at the back of his skull for months and he hardly had the emotional space to accommodate someone else’s feelings as well as his own. Lowering his eyes apologetically, he stepped aside so Akari could enter.

‘You know where the stuff is,’ he said, nodding to the kitchen. ‘And, er, sorry about the mess. It’s been a bit hectic and I haven’t had a moment spare to deal with the washing up.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Jiraiya,’ Akari said sincerely. ‘Can your dad manage tea?’

‘Worth a try,’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘But he’s been throwing up anything and everything that touches his stomach of late.’

‘Well, that at least explains the smell,’ Akari said, her nose wrinkling.

Jiraiya’s jaw twitched slightly in irritation. He turned back to head to Benjiro’s room and nearly flattened Tsunade, who was rounding the corner at the same time.

‘Watch it!’ she hissed, side-stepping just in time.

‘Sorry, sorry!’ Jiraiya said. ‘I’m feeling a bit like a zombie, truth be told. But anyway, did he give you the okay? Can we admit him to Hospital?’

‘Well, he’s not happy about it,’ Tsunade said. ‘But I think he realises it’s the only way he’ll be comfortable. I’ll send someone round later this afternoon to support him.’

‘Thank you, Tsunade,’ Jiraiya said, his tone open and genuine.

‘You don’t need to thank me,’ she said. ‘But you _do_ need to talk to your father. There are some things he wants to say, but he’s so worried about freaking you out that he’s avoiding the subject altogether. And…in my experience, there’s nothing worse than words left unsaid, you know?’ She bristled slightly, thinking of how much she wanted to say to her mother before she died.

Jiraiya swallowed thickly. ‘He keeps trying to say goodbye, Tsu. Every night before I go up to my room, he…he has this look in his eye and it feels like someone is punching me in the stomach every time I see it. I just – I can’t face that. Not right now, anyway.’

Tsunade nodded, her eyes sad. ‘I know. But you two need to try and spend some time together when you’re not arguing over his treatment plan, or generally just getting at each other’s throats. Enjoy the time he has left.’

‘I know that,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘It’s just really hard to see him like this, you know?’

‘Of course it is,’ Tsunade said. ‘No one said this would be easy, because it never is.’

‘But,’ Jiraiya swallowed, trying to collect his thoughts, ‘sometimes, and as much as I hate to admit it, sometimes it feels like he’s already slipped away. He’s so frail and tired and he’s lost that spark he once had. It’s hard to explain. It feels like I’ve lost him already and I don’t know why.’

‘That’s nonsense,’ Tsunade said, rather sharply. ‘Benjiro is sill _there_ , Jiraiya. He’s not gone from you. And even after the inevitable, he’ll remain alive as you loved him through the memories you carry. We’re more than the sum of our parts. What we leave behind, and the people we love, that’s what keeps us grounded.’

The lump in Jiraiya’s throat hardened and he thought he might choke on it. Not really knowing what to say, he took Tsunade’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug. He felt her body stiffen slightly in his arms, but she relaxed into his hold, and her hands settled on his back.

‘It’s okay,’ she murmured, her voice muffled against his shoulder. ‘He’s in the best possible hands. And he has the most devoted son in the world.’

Jiraiya squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t felt so safe in his own home for a long while, but standing there, feeling Tsunade’s warmth in his arms, made him feel like he might be able to get through the coming months after all. He only broke apart from her when he heard Akari clear her throat from the kitchen doorway.

‘The tea is ready,’ she said. Her voice was tight and stern, and Jiraiya and Tsunade sprung apart as if they’d been electrocuted. Jiraiya rubbed the back of his bashfully and he side-glanced at Tsunade. _Wait, is she blushing_?

‘Thanks, Akari,’ he said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on her forehead. ‘I’ll, er, take one in for Pa now. Tsu’s here by the way. Obviously. I probably should’ve mentioned – you know, so you would make enough tea, but – anyway, tea! Tea is always a good idea.’

He grabbed a steaming mug and bustled off, knowing full well that Akari, in all her admiration of Tsunade, also harboured insecurities about her. She was aware that they shared a bond she couldn’t even begin to replicate, and the only saving grace was that Tsunade was usually too busy to spend time with him. But, ever since Benjiro had gone downhill, she was around the house more and more. Akari tried not to let it get to her. The three of them were 25-year-old, working Shinobi – they hardly had time for petty grievances. Still, she hadn’t missed the look on Jiraiya’s face, nor the blush on Tsunade’s cheeks.

‘I can make more tea, if you want,’ Akari said, breaking the heavy silence.

Tsunade looked fairly startled at her hospitality, and glanced at her watch. ‘I have a few minutes before I ought to head back. Tea sounds good.’

‘Great. Kitchen is through here,’ Akari said.

‘Oh, I know,’ Tsunade said lightly. ‘I spent a lot of time here when we were kids. I’ve got a lot of memories of Jiraiya trying to teach Oro to cook – believe me, the smell of smoke still lingers.’

Akari forced a laugh. _What the heck is wrong with me? I’m being so awkward. It was only a hug. Friends hug all the time._ Swallowing, she set the kettle over the stove again and leant against the worksurface, twitching her fingers against her folded arms. She watched as Tsunade opened a cupboard and located a mug, knowing exactly where everything was kept.

‘How have you been?’ Tsunade asked. ‘I can imagine it’s a pretty stressful time for you and Jiraiya at the moment, what with everything going on.’

‘You’d think,’ Akari shrugged, thrusting her nose in the air. ‘But to be honest, Jiraiya and I are stronger now than we’ve ever been. I’ve become his rock, in a sense. His support mechanism.’

Tsunade nodded. ‘Well, that’s good to hear. Trauma can sometimes tear people apart because of the strain of everything.’

‘I think trauma brings people together. I mean, in most cases. I know you did nothing but push Jiraiya away after your brother died,’ Akari said coolly.

Tsunade bristled slightly. She certainly wasn’t expecting _that_. The Akari she had grown up with was a bubbly, if a little dappy, optimistic sort of girl. She spent most of her life being in slight awe of other people, especially those she respected. She could hardly talk to Hiruzen at the best of times. She also wasn’t the kind of person to be emboldened, or even bring up difficult subjects. Tsunade breathed out slowly, trying to compose herself.

‘I threw myself into my work, that much is true,’ she replied. ‘But people react to grief and trauma in different ways. And besides, Jiraiya was travelling for a few years – I couldn’t exactly spend time with him, no more than you could.’

‘Yeah, but you could have responded to his letters,’ Akari said. ‘He was being a real downer about that, you know. When he got back and we started spending time together, all he spoke about was the fact that you and that Orochimaru didn’t write to him.’

Tsunade frowned at her. ‘Well, I’m sorry about that. Both Oro and I had other things on our minds.’

‘And now Jiraiya has everything on his mind,’ Akari said, a bite to her tone.

‘And I’m here for him.’

‘It’s about time,’ Akari snapped. ‘After everything he’s done for you and your family, after everything the pair of you have been through, I would have thought you’d be on the scene before everything hit crisis point.’

Tsunade felt anger flare up but she bit it back. She could tell Akari was speaking from a point of pain, frustration, and perhaps jealousy, and getting irritated at her because of it would hardly improve the situation. ‘I’m well aware that I haven’t been the best friend to him in the last few years, but I had…I had things I needed to prioritise, including my own well-being as well as my Grandmother’s. We had a lot to deal with, Akari. I couldn’t be a support mechanism for everyone.’

‘But you could manage for the whole Village,’ Akari scoffed. ‘I’ve seen everything you’ve done, Tsunade – all these group sessions you’ve pioneered, all the extra work on the Village’s infrastructure, and everything else in between. You had time for all of that, but not for your so-called best friend?’

‘Akari, what’s all this about?’ Tsunade snapped. ‘Last time I checked, you weren’t exactly on the scene when Jiraiya and I were kids. And besides, whatever gripes we had, we’ve sorted them. There is literally no point in calling me out so late in the game. I’m doing everything I can to care for Benjiro for his own sake as well as Jiraiya’s, so instead of trying to piss me off, you’d do better to actually lend a hand for once instead of being dead weight.’

Tsunade regretted her words the moment they were expelled from her lips and carried by her temper, but when Akari’s face crumpled, she could have kicked herself.

‘Oh, Akari,’ she mumbled, as the young woman sniffled pitifully into her hands. She reached over, as if to place a reassuring hand on Akari’s shoulder, but she caught herself at the last moment. ‘Look, I didn’t mean that. I’m just a bit stressed, and between you and me, I don’t function like a human when I’m tense.’

Akari tried to laugh, but it came out like a choked sob. She rubbed at her eyes and swallowed thickly, staring at Tsunade’s feet. ‘No, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to say all those things. It’s just – I – I feel so useless. You’re actually helping Jiraiya and all I can do is stand around, make tea, and pick fights with his friends. You’re right. I _am_ dead weight.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Tsunade said softly. ‘You’re doing the best you can, Akari, and sometimes, just making tea is enough. I mean, it would be best to stop analysing my shortcomings as Jiraiya’s friend, but the rest of it is what he needs. At times like this, when normality is scarce, a warming cup of tea and a familiar face is often the best remedy.’

Akari managed a smile, wiping her eyes. ‘When did you get so wise? You used to be a massive loud-mouth with a chip on her shoulder.’

‘Still got the chip, don’t you worry,’ Tsunade said, nudging her gently. ‘And really, it’s just experience at this point. I know what it’s like to have the world crash around your ears, and sometimes, familiarity is the only thing sparing you from completely falling apart. You’re doing a much better job than you realise, Akari. I’m sure Jiraiya knows that, too.’

‘I don’t need his gratitude because I know he’s going through a tough time,’ Akari whispered. ‘I just…I just wish that he’d look at me the way he looks at you.’

Tsunade’s words caught in her throat. _Is that what all this is about? She’s jealous?_

‘Sorry,’ Akari mumbled. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. It was inappropriate.’

Tsunade swallowed, pulling herself together. ‘Let’s get that tea, shall we?’

*

Orochimaru probably shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but really, if Danzo didn’t want him skulking around in the shadows and listening in, he shouldn’t have taught him so well in the first place.

He had caught wind of a meeting between Danzo and another member of Root, whose identity he hadn’t yet discovered. Such secrecy wasn’t unusual in Danzo’s shady faction, but Orochimaru was irked to be excluded from it. Over the last year, he had become more than an ordinary ANBU member – he was the shining star of Root, easily the best Shinobi in the entire place, as well as Danzo’s personal right-hand man. As his student, the position was inevitable. He had hoped that Danzo would finally disclose the mystery surrounding The Fires of Takigakure and what became of his parents. Of course, despite years of exemplary service, Danzo’s lips remained sealed. In his sound mind, Orochimaru knew Danzo was lording it over him so he wouldn’t try to abandon Root, but as the years went by, Orochimaru was getting closer and closer to taking matters into his own hands. As a result, he had found himself down in Konoha’s hidden archives, available only to the ANBU or those with permission from Hokage, and _that_ was where he caught the dry tones of Danzo’s voice coming from a hidden room.

‘…the time is nearing,’ Danzo rasped. ‘Once Konoha strikes, the war will officially be named as such, and you and I can make our move…’

Orochimaru froze. He backed up against a dusty bookcase, straining his ears. He could hear the low murmurs of Danzo’s voice coming from behind a wall, and he concentrated on the space. He could feel a slight air current caressing his ankles, and he focused his eyes in the dimly lit space. He could just make out scuff marks on the floor, barely visible to the untrained eye, and concluded that Danzo was holed up in a secret room. _The war? What war?_ He pressed his lips together, remembering Tsunade’s grave warning the night they went out drinking – _‘there is something big on the horizon, and we have to be ready to meet it’_. But for Konoha to strike first seemed pre-emptive, and certainly something Hiruzen would want to avoid, even with Danzo’s advice festering in his ear. Still, Orochimaru couldn’t help the shiver that crept up his spine as a cold feeling of dread descended over him.

‘…the old fool would never agree to…’

Orochimaru frowned. The second voice was vaguely familiar. It was low and gruff, likely a male’s, and there was something about its inflection that was jumping out to him.

‘…we don’t need him to agree. All we require is the chaos of blade against blade, man against man, to serve as a smoke screen. It would be the perfect moment to…’

_A smoke screen? For what?_ Orochimaru was getting the distinct impression that this was a conversation no one but the two in the room should be privy to. Still, his curiosity would not be quenched, and he eased closer still.

‘…you intend to pin the blame on another. One who doesn’t come from within…’

‘…it is the only way to avoid tracing it back to…but of course, it won’t be easy…and we must be patient…’

‘…I have been patient, Danzo. It’s been years since Nawaki’s death, years more since Komako’s, and yet…’

Orochimaru’s gasp caught in his throat. It was Taichi, no doubt about it. His scarred face came to mind the moment he made the connection, and he couldn’t help but shudder. When they were children, Taichi was an incredibly imposing figure, especially compared to Komako and Mito. Half of the time, Orochimaru could hardly fathom how Tsunade was Taichi’s daughter at all, they were so different. In any case, it _was_ odd to discover him as Danzo’s accomplice. Ever since Tsunade unceremoniously expelled him from the Senju household, he had been lurking about the Village and not doing much of anything, at least as far as Orochimaru was concerned. He didn’t even know that Danzo and Taichi knew each other, especially well enough to have a secret meeting.

‘…your impatience threatens this whole ambition and I’ll not have you…’

‘…sounds like a threat. Tread carefully, or you might…’

Frustration clawed at Orochimaru’s throat and he edged closer still. He pressed himself against the wall, just to the side of the so-called hidden entrance, and sucked in his breath. He knew that the slightest sound might be detected by the likes of Danzo, the expert in espionage that he was, and he didn’t debunk Taichi’s prowess, either. While he wasn’t the man he used to be, he was still a Jonin. A threat. _No one is standing guard, not even Root members. This really must be top secret._ For a moment, Orochimaru hesitated. Should he really be listening in, given the obvious circumstances? He didn’t exactly trust Danzo, but hoped whatever he and Taichi were discussing wasn’t anything nefarious. Danzo wouldn’t actively try and bring harm to Konoha, surely? And yet, there was something in his tone of voice that shook Orochimaru to the core. He sounded…heartless. Detached. And most disturbingly, determined.

‘…no disrespect. I understand your concerns,’ Danzo continued, his voice fading in and out of Orochimaru’s awareness. ‘…we risk the whole operation if we act in haste…’

‘…strike hard and fast, and he won’t see us coming…’

‘Hiruzen is no fool…need a continency plan or the dots will lead right back to…’

Orochimaru gulped. _Why are they discussing Sarutobi-sensei?_

‘But he needs to be removed!’ Taichi’s voice came loud and clear, ringing through the walls. Orochimaru heard a thud and felt the wall shake slightly, and he assumed that Taichi and hit against it. He was grateful the man lacked Tsunade’s brute strength, else there would be a crater and he’d be discovered. Sweating slightly, Orochimaru crept between two bookcases, holding his breath.

‘…calm yourself…risk being overheard…’

‘There is no one here,’ Taichi snapped. ‘And all this secrecy, and working under the cover of darkness, is starting to get on my last nerve. You first mentioned your distaste for Hiruzen after Lord Second died, and that was nearly two decades ago. And ever since then, all you’d done is slightly undermine him and pander to _my_ grief and _my_ frustrations in order to get a hold over me!’

_That sounds familiar_ , Orochimaru thought, a dull sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

‘I did not pander,’ Danzo said, his tone evening out, meaning Orochimaru could hear more clearly. ‘I merely highlighted Hiruzen’s inadequacies. Your wife and son were examples of this.’

‘They aren’t _examples_ of anything,’ Taichi snarled. ‘They meant the world to me.’

If Orochimaru wasn’t such a calm and collected soul, he would have likely scoffed out loud and given away his position. Apparently, Danzo agreed with the absurdity of Taichi’s declaration.

‘You had a bizarre way of showing it,’ he said. ‘As I recall, your poor son was terrified of you, and your wife had essentially given up on you. But pay it no thought. Your pain is what drives you, Taichi, and perhaps I _have_ used that to my advantage. However, whatever your opinion of me or your family, you would have arrived at the same conclusion as I, with or without my aid – Hiruzen is not fit to rule. His indecisiveness could be the death of us.’

Orochimaru heard Taichi’s ragged breathing from behind the wall, and he gritted his teeth. Just what was Danzo plotting? Orochimaru couldn’t help but agree, to some extent, that Hiruzen was hesitant in the face of weighty decisions, but as far as he was concerned, such was the reaction of a man who values peace. It didn’t make him unfit to be Hokage, nor would it be the death of everyone. He balled his fists together, concentrating.

‘I understand that,’ Taichi replied. ‘And you know I share your sentiment. Which is why it is exasperating for me to see _you_ so hesitant, when you are so quick to criticise Hiruzen for the same trait.’

‘Indeed, I might be hesitant,’ Danzo said dryly. ‘But that is because our ultimate goal is one that will throw Konoha into chaos, at least temporarily. Whatsmore, I am fully aware that Hiruzen’s devotees will stop at nothing to uncover the perpetrators. Your daughter included, no doubt. And as a result, we _must_ tread carefully. Using the coming war as a distraction dissolves any suspicion that might befall us, and pins it on foreign Shinobi. The hate for them is already rife, and therefore, it won’t be a stretch for anyone to assume that foreign Shinobi assassinated the Hokage.’

Orochimaru had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from gasping. Realisation dawned on him like a blood moon, bright and red and foreboding. Danzo and Taichi were not just planning to remove Hiruzen from power, but to remove him entirely. To end his life. _This doesn’t make any sense! Danzo and Sarutobi-sensei are old friends!_ Orochimaru shook his head, trying to rid himself of his frantic thoughts and calm down. Any vocal outburst of panic would surely expose him, and if Danzo wasn’t against killing his own friend, he certainly wouldn’t have any qualms about killing his student.

Deep down, Orochimaru knew it made sense. Danzo’s style was always to operate from the shadows. All of Orochimaru’s assigned missions were done in secrecy, with the end goal of deflecting the blame and pinning it on someone else. Such a move, while baffling, was almost expected. If Danzo was going to kill Hiruzen, he would do it without leaving a trace.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Taichi said. His voice was mutual, unwavering. ‘But the longer we wait, I fear Hiruzen spreads his influence further. He’s already brainwashing the Academy students with his pathetic ‘Will of Fire’ mantra.’

‘You do realise such was a teaching of Lord First, no?’ Danzo said. ‘As I recall, you respected him above anyone else. You revered him. You married his daughter. I must admit, I’m surprised to sense such scorn towards one of his most central messages.’

‘I believe that my father-in-law was the most powerful man that ever was, and ever will be,’ Taichi said. ‘That has not changed. But this perception of his teachings, over the years, has been warped along with everything else. I think Lord First meant it as a symbol of power. Hiruzen is tarnishing it as a message of pathetic cooperation.’

‘Perhaps,’ Danzo said. ‘But it matters not. Lord First is long dead, and should our preparations go as planned, Hiruzen is soon to follow.’

Orochimaru felt sick. _What the hell do I do? Should I tell someone? But I don’t have any evidence. It’s such an extreme accusation against one of Konoha’s most loyal Councilmen…and Tsu’s father…I don’t know what to do._ And for the first time in a long while, that much was true. Orochimaru had no idea what to do. The devoted part of his brain was screaming at him to get to Hiruzen and expose Danzo’s plan, but the logical part of his brain was telling him that such a move would be absurd. Hiruzen was under no obligation to believe him, even as his precious student, and without proof, he feared no one would. Whatsmore, Danzo would obviously deny it vehemently and almost certainly cut him loose. If Danzo expelled him from Root, his hope of discovering his parents’ fate was virtually zero. _Dammit. Dammit! No one will believe this!_

His breathing erratic, Orochimaru broke away from his hiding place, pacing back up to the entrance of the archives. He didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to know at all. _What do I do? What the hell do I do?_ He tried to control his breathing, closing his eyes and composing himself. _What would Jiraiya do? Or Tsunade?_ He shook his head again. Such a line of thinking wouldn’t get him anywhere. He knew those two would burst into Hiruzen’s office with absolutely no hesitation and expose Danzo’s plan the moment they knew. Jiraiya especially acted as though consequences didn’t exist. _But he doesn’t have anything to lose, apart from reputation. And Jiraiya stopped caring about that the moment he proved himself as a Jonin._ And what of Tsunade? Would she be willing to throw Taichi to the lions? _She would. She cut off her ties to him long ago. But that also means she doesn’t have anything to lose._

He burst out of the archive doors and into the night, his head spinning. He felt like he’d been on a bender with the other two, leaving his head pounding with alcohol and regret. It was a chilly night and south end of the Village, where the archives were, was relatively quiet. Orochimaru’s teeth chattered with the cold and with his own panic. A part of him desperately wanted to go to Jiraiya’s, for comfort more than anything, but he knew he had much to deal with concerning Benjiro. _I can’t burden him with this, too. But what do I do? What_ can _I do?_ He swallowed thickly, running a hand through his long hair. _Jiraiya and Tsunade would believe me in a heartbeat, even if they don’t want to. But they carry no sway. And I can’t…I can’t bring them into this and risk their necks, too._ His pulse thrumming in his throat, Orochimaru tore through the streets, heading to his home. The home his parents bought together. _And I can’t risk them, either. I’ve invested too much to let it slip away now._

The moment he unlocked his front door, Orochimaru had a wild desire to thump his head against the wall. He had seen Jiraiya do it often enough when he was frustrated, and he used to mock him for it. _Idiot._ But it wouldn’t help things. Nothing would help things. He had just overheard the assassination plan of the century, and there was nothing he could do about it. Collapsing on the sofa, Orochimaru put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. _Okay. There is no turning back the clock. All you can do, now, is control your reaction to this._

Sighing, he lifted his head, and his eyes fell on the snake-skin in its display case, right next to his team photograph. _Mother and Father…Jiraiya and Tsunade…would I really jeopardise you for Sarutobi-sensei?_ He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. _No, you are not going to tell Jiraiya or Tsunade. Jiraiya is overwhelmed, and Tsunade would hit the roof if she found out her father was part of it._ In a way, deciding he would spare his teammates was a slight weight off Orochimaru’s frazzled mind. Protecting them from the earth-shattering news helped him feel more in control, and it was one less thing to worry about. _And my parents…that mission…I could never put that at risk. I need answers._ And he did need answers. His life had been tainted by the secret, by the lack of closure, and it had shaped him for the worse. He needed peace.

_So, I tell no one? I risk Sarutobi-sensei, the Hokage, for my own gain?_

_Selfish._

_Worthless._

_Monster._

Orochimaru shook his head. The last time he had called himself a monster was when Nawaki had died. The word haunted him ever since, and in his lowest moments, it would come spinning to the forefront of his mind. _You’re not being selfish_ , he told himself, gripping his hands together. _You have no evidence. Accuse Danzo now, and it will all come down on top of you and you’ll suffocate because of it_.

Orochimaru steeled himself. This was a secret, a burden, he would have to carry alone. At least for the time being – from what he heard, Danzo and Taichi were not planning to strike any time soon. That gave him an opportunity to gather evidence, or at least some semblance of it, before he went around pointing the finger. It also gave him a chance to needle Danzo for more information about his parents. Breathing out slowly and evenly, Orochimaru opened his eyes. They glowed in the low light and were full of determination. _Carry this burden until you can bear it no longer. To keep enduring until it comes to be, no matter what. That is what it means to be a Shinobi._

*

‘This better be good,’ Jiraiya groaned, stretching his hands behind his head as he and Tsunade walked towards the Mansion. It had been a week since Benjiro was admitted to Hospital, and his symptoms were steadily improving. In the meantime, Hiruzen had called an emergency summit with all of Konoha’s Jonin, and they were to gather in one of the buildings just off to the side of the Mansion complex. No one knew what it was about.

‘Sarutobi-sensei wouldn’t drag us all away from our duties without good reason,’ Tsunade said, as they made their way through the Village. ‘Though I must admit, it’s pretty sudden. Usually there’s a schedule for these sorts of things since I recommended it.’

‘God, is there nothing in Konoha you haven’t recommended?’ Jiraiya scoffed.

‘Well I recommended for your perverted ass to be banned from the Bath Houses, but it still hasn’t been approved,’ Tsunade hissed.

‘So that’s a no then.’

Tsunade pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘You’re unbearable, you know that?’

‘It’s one of my many charms,’ Jiraiya winked.

The two of them headed up towards the building, where a stream of Jonin were making their way inside. Jiraiya spotted Sakumo’s tell-tale white hair, as well as Kenzou Nara, Hiromichi Uchiha, Fumihiro Hyuga, Isao Akimichi, the Inuzuka twins, and Riku Yamanaka, all of whom were their classmates. He squinted further and made out who he assumed was Daichi Aburame, another classmate, but he was wearing a high-collared coat and dark glasses, so it was hard to tell. Chiharu Nara, their Academy sensei, was also there. She was chatting to a yellow-haired man Tsunade recognised as Reo Namikaze, and Shinku Yūhi.

‘Quite the turn out,’ Jiraiya said, letting a low whistle.

‘Well, he did summon everyone,’ Tsunade said. ‘But it’s sort of unusual to see us all in one place at one time. You forget how many of us there are, right?’

‘And this isn’t even including the ANBU and the Chuunin!’ Jiraiya said. ‘Damn, we’re stronger than we give ourselves credit for.’

‘Speaking of the ANBU, have you seen Oro?’ Tsunade said, as they ducked inside.

‘Not yet. Knowing him, he’s probably already in there – always was a goody-two-shoes,’ Jiraiya smirked.

Orochimaru was already there, sitting with his back ramrod straight, at the very front of the room. His eyes were trained on Danzo. He knew that Danzo wouldn’t be stupid enough to put the Hokage’s life in danger in a room full of faithful Jonin, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he would seek to undermine Hiruzen at every turn. To make matters worse, though he was no longer on the Council, Taichi was in attendance too. He was sat glowering at the back of the room, greeting no one and looking thoroughly disgruntled. Orochimaru managed a small nod when Sakumo entered the room.

‘Hey, kid,’ Sakumo greeted, pausing by his table.

‘Good evening, Hatake,’ Orochimaru nodded. ‘I trust you also have no idea what this is about?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Sakumo shrugged. ‘But to be honest, I’ve been rather out of touch with work of late. Kiyoko is due any day now, so I’ve been teetering like a spinning top from the nerves!’

Orochimaru couldn’t help but smile. It was no secret that Sakumo and Kiyoko had finally managed to fall pregnant, after nearly two years of trying, and Kiyoko was currently the size of a small boat. Frazzled and exhausted though she was, she still helped out at her family’s inn in Konoha, despite Sakumo worrying about her being on her feet all day. Orochimaru didn’t know much about pregnancy, but even he could tell that she must be ready to burst very soon.

‘Anyway,’ Sakumo sighed, ‘I’m not exactly thrilled about being pulled away from her at this late hour, but duty calls. And Lord Third has been very reasonable – he hasn’t been sending me away on lengthy missions for some time now, since he knows how anxious I’ve been. Plus, I think Kiyoko would hit the roof if I left everything up to her!’

‘Sarutobi-sensei can be accommodating, that much is true,’ Orochimaru agreed. _Perhaps his good nature is what’s driven Danzo to such extreme measures._

‘I’ll let you get back to it,’ Sakumo smiled. ‘I think Reo wants a word – he’s waving at me like a madman.’

‘It’s probably about his son,’ Chiharu piped up, overhearing as she walked past. ‘He just graduated from the Academy and it’s all Reo is bloody talking about.’

‘Chiharu-sensei,’ Orochimaru greeted. ‘It’s nice to see you again.’

‘Ah, Orochimaru,’ she smiled, seeming genuinely pleased to see him. ‘You know, despite Reo’s assertion that Minato is ‘simply extraordinary for graduating at only 10 years old!’, I can only assume he hasn’t heard how old _you_ were, eh?’

‘I mean, 10 years old is nothing to scoff at, Chiharu,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘Not all of us can be as skilled at the likes of Orochimaru.’

‘Well, maybe it’s because he had such a great teacher,’ Chiharu sighed. ‘I sort of miss it, you know. Not that I mind being a squad leader, but there was something really rewarding about seeing how a bunch of squirts went from being barely able to walk -’

‘ – to becoming cold, hard, killing machines?’ Sakumo winked. ‘Yeah, _so_ rewarding. Besides, you’ve changed your tune – last time I checked, you hated kids!’

‘Having one myself has changed my perspective, I guess,’ Chiharu shrugged.

‘Yes, how is Shikaku?’ Sakumo asked. ‘He must be what, around Minato’s age?’

‘He’s a lazy little so-and-so but sharp as a tack,’ Chiharu sighed. ‘Already beating his poor father at Shogi.’

‘Ah, such is the Nara way,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘Anyway, we best grab a seat. Lord Third is starting to look a bit twitchy.’

The two of them nodded goodbye to Orochimaru, who rather felt like he was merely a spectator to their conversation and not really part of it. But he was glad to see Sakumo and Chiharu. It was always comforting to see familiar faces in uncertain times. Speaking of which, Jiraiya and Tsunade, who were the last to shuffle inside, both lit up when they saw him.

‘Oro! Figured you’d be here bright and early,’ Jiraiya grinned, taking a seat in the row behind him. Tsunade sat next to Jiraiya, paying absolutely no attention to her father, even though she could feel his glare piercing the back of her head.

‘And I figured you’d be running late,’ Orochimaru sighed.

‘Okay, this time is wasn’t my fault,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I was waiting on Tsu to finish up at the Hospital so we could walk together.’

‘Biwako is running me into the ground,’ Tsunade groaned, rubbing her face tiredly. ‘I’m starting to think she gets a kick out of it, giving me all this extra work.’

‘In her defence, Asuma is a toddler,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘The little tyke is probably running _her_ into the ground at home, so it’s no wonder she wants to divvy up some responsibilities!’

‘And besides, you don’t help yourself, Tsunade,’ Orochimaru said, craning his neck so he could talk to them. ‘You don’t have to organise a million and one community projects, but last I heard, you added another one to your list.’

‘What?’ Tsunade pouted. ‘I was being serious that time at the bar about basic self-defence classes for the villagers. I was going to ask you to lend a hand and teach them a few things, but since you’re so against the idea, I shan’t bother.’

‘Having Oro as a sensei is a terrible idea, we all know that,’ Jiraiya snorted. ‘The guy is about as nurturing as – oh, shit. Oro, I didn’t mean – you know I wasn’t talking about…’ Jiraiya trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Orochimaru’s face had gone stony at Jiraiya’s insinuation, and Tsunade had flinched slightly. Clearly, they were both thinking of Orochimaru’s brief tenure as Nawaki’s sensei. Orochimaru turned back to face the front, pressing his lips together.

‘Oro, I really didn’t mean -’

‘ – don’t push it, Jiraiya,’ Tsunade said, touching his arm. Her voice was low and soft, and he noticed that she’d suddenly tucked her necklace out of sight.

‘But I would never -’

‘ – we know,’ Tsunade interrupted. ‘But just leave it, yeah?’

Jiraiya’s face fell, and he leant back in his seat, feeling rotten. It had been an accidental slip of the tongue, and he hadn’t even thought about what he was insinuating until he’d said the words out loud. To him, the thought that Nawaki’s death was somehow Orochimaru’s fault was so ridiculously absurd that he didn’t even entertain the idea. It only occurred to him _after_ Orochimaru had expressed his extreme guilt about the whole thing. Jiraiya knew he and Tsunade had spoken about it, but the wound, no matter how old, was still vulnerable.

‘Sheesh, who died?’ Kenzou Nara frowned, slumping down in a chair on Jiraiya’s other side and looking around at the trio’s stoic faces.

‘Evening, Kenzou,’ Tsunade said, ignoring his comment. ‘I’m surprised to see you here at such a late hour. Shouldn’t you be taking a nap or something?’

‘Ooh, scathing,’ Kenzou said sarcastically. ‘And while I agree that the hour is ludicrous, I couldn’t pass up the chance to get some decent intel. The Council and Lord Third have all been irritatingly tight-lipped about Konoha’s external affairs, and frankly, it’s about time we were included in the loop.’

‘That’s what you think this is about, then? Our actions in the other Great Nations?’ Tsunade asked.

‘Well, obviously,’ Kenzou said, folding his arms. ‘I thought you were meant to be smart, Princess. It’s clear as day that if anyone is going to strike first, it’s going to be us.’

Orochimaru froze, Danzo’s words floating into the front of his mind: _‘_ _Once Konoha strikes, the war will officially be named as such, and you and I can make our move_ ’. Swallowing, he stole a look at Danzo, who was sat bolt upright at the front. He, along with Koharu, Homura, Mito, and Hiruzen himself, were all muttering quietly to themselves, waiting for the Jonin to settle down. Had he already convinced Hiruzen to make the first move in the war? Orochimaru bit his lip. He had hoped that Hiruzen’s obsession with peace would have stopped him from making any major moves, but with Danzo in his ear, it might be tricky to resist his advice.

‘Kenzou, shut your trap,’ Fumihiro scowled, his ears pricking up. He was sat on the front row, near enough to Orochimaru to overhear the conversation. ‘There’s no point in speculating about such things, especially since everything will be revealed soon enough.’

‘Oh, whatever,’ Kenzou sighed, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m not going to get worked up over it, at any rate.’

‘I just hope you’re wrong,’ Orochimaru muttered, so quietly that none of the others heard him. He glanced around the room at all the familiar faces, and realised with a nostalgic jolt that it was the first time in a very, very long time that most of his classmates were all in one place. Apart from Akari, who remained a Chuunin and had no desire to climb the ranks, everyone was there. Hiromichi was leaning against the doorframe in his Police Force uniform, eyes scanning the room; Fumihiro was a few places to Orochimaru’s left on the front row, and next to him were the Inuzuka twins and their dogs; behind him sat Kenzou, near Riku and Isao, his teammates; and Daichi was somewhere near the back. There were still a few Jonin he hadn’t yet met, but to see them, all different ages, in one room, was oddly overwhelming. Because Orochimaru couldn’t help but reflect upon a single, dreadful thought – _if the war really comes, how many people in this room won’t make it back alive?_

Hiruzen finally cleared his throat, and everyone fell into a respectable silence.

‘Good evening, all,’ he said, smiling warmly. Orochimaru noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I do apologise for the late hour, but this was the only time when the majority of you would be retiring for the night, and therefore, I viewed it as an opportunity for everyone to gather. I shall do my best to keep things brief – I understand many of you have families to return to – but unfortunately, the matter I must address is a pressing one.’ 

‘I knew it,’ Kenzou murmured.

‘As I’m sure you’re all aware,’ Hiruzen said, shooting a stern look at Kenzou, ‘tensions between Konoha and the other Hidden Villages have been brewing for years. Nine years ago, we can all agree that our temporary peace with Iwagakure was well and truly shattered. I am talking, of course, about when they crossed into the Land of Fire and directly confronted a group of young Genin, taking one of our own.’

Tsunade’s jaw tensed. _Yeah, and why has it taken you this long to do something about that, huh?_ She could feel multiple pairs of eyes on her, obviously waiting to see if she was going to react. She took a breath to steady herself, and set her gaze on Hiruzen. At the very least, the man looked apologetic.

‘Our reaction to such an aggressive act was admittedly too gentle,’ Hiruzen continued. ‘On reflection, I realise my preoccupation with maintaining Lord Second’s peace may have clouded my better judgement. Though I am not a man who would act in revenge, I wonder if Konoha should have cracked down harder and faster.’

Orochimaru, with some disgust, noted the intensely smug expression on Danzo’s face. He didn’t even have to look at Taichi to know he was pulling a similar sneer.

‘In any case, the past cannot be undone,’ Hiruzen said. ‘But we have arrived at a morbid crossroads. If we do not strike now, I fear Iwagakure will only grow more brash, and more casualties will occur as a result of this. Naturally, you have seen the scars on the land from scattered battles between us and the enemy. But Iwagakure is not the only danger rearing its head – many of you have reported that Sunagakure have been threatening our borders. If we wish to avoid a repeat of Iwagakure’s boldness and brutality, we must move first. We must perform a show of strength. A deterrent, if you will, to prevent other Nations from using our preoccupation with Iwagakure to strike at us from the dark.’

Hiruzen paused, as several murmurs were exchanged amongst the Jonin. He took a long drag from his pipe, settling his nerves.

‘I am talking, I am deeply remorseful to say, of war,’ he said gravely. ‘If we move against Sunagakure as a deterrent, they will surely view it as an act of war. But if we don’t move against them, they will use our tension with Iwagakure to attack and cross our borders. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, if we don’t move against Iwagakure, more blood will be unnecessarily spilt. Konoha… _I_ have been idle for too long. That stops now.’

‘Hokage,’ Isao Akimichi said, standing up from his seat. ‘Does this mean…are you declaring what I think you are?’

‘Indeed,’ Hiruzen murmured. ‘We are at war. The Second Shinobi War.’

An eruption of startled confusion exploded from the audience. Some jumped to their feet in anger, others in bewilderment, and some merely groaned sorrowfully, their hearts still full of the First Shinobi War, only twenty years before.

‘Silence!’ Danzo boomed. ‘Your Hokage has not finished his address!’

‘Thank you, Danzo,’ Hiruzen said, holding up a hand. ‘I know this is not the news any of us wanted, but it is necessary. We must protect Konoha _and_ the Land of Fire from foreign invaders. They not only threaten our borders, but our way of life. Sunagakure has grown greedy for want of more fertile lands, and Iwagakure has always sought for more control. The Fire Daimyō has expressed his earnest request that we stand against those Shinobi who would see our lands burn, and seeks protection.’

‘So, this is all at the Daimyō’s behest?’ Hiromichi spat. ‘He would watch us go to war for the sake of, what, his lands and riches?’

‘It is more than that, Hiro,’ Homura said, looking sternly at his student. ‘Lives will be lost if we do not make a stand – innocent lives at that.’

‘But making a stand will lead _directly_ to loss of life!’ Hiromichi protested. ‘I mean, we if blatantly make a move against Sunagakure and Iwagakure, we’ll have them coming from both sides. Inciting war always invites violence – even in the name of defence.’

A few people nodded their heads in agreement, Jiraiya amongst them.

‘He makes a good point, Sarutobi-sensei,’ he said, standing up. ‘And believe me, I know better than most of the discord across the lands, thanks to my travels, but as it stands, we are quite comfortably holding our own without having to start a fully-fledged war.’

‘Holding our own?’ Riku Yamanka scoffed, shaking her head. ‘I’d hardly call losing countless lives on recon missions ‘holding our own’, Jiraiya. My own father was killed trying to keep the peace. I say we strike first and take control of the situation before it slips through our fingers.’

‘But we’d risk a greater loss in the name of control,’ Tsunade piped up, her brow furrowed. ‘I’m not saying the situation between us and the other Lands are entirely amicable, but to assert our own dominance against them, we automatically provoke a barrage of violence in turn. And as a result, we’ll end up losing more ground.’

‘How can you say that?’ Riku snarled. ‘Iwagakure killed your brother! I thought you, of all people, would be itching for the chance to strike back!’

‘I’m well aware of that, Riku,’ Tsunade snapped. ‘And believe me, I’d love to go toe to toe with them. But I’m not going to act in revenge, and besides, we can handle this situation without having to name it as an all-out war. In any case, if we’re all locking horns, what’s to say Amegakure won’t make a move when we are weakened? Don’t forget, we share a border with them. And as far as I’m concerned, Hanzō of the Salamander would not sit idle while his biggest threat is knee-deep in war.’

‘The Princess makes a valid point,’ Kenzou said, before Riku could retort. ‘Amegakure have been steadily rising as a substantial threat ever since Hanzō established control. If I were him, I would be sure to get involved if my enemy was weakened.’

‘The thought had crossed our minds,’ Danzo said dryly, his tone suggesting that it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Amegakure not only shares a border with us, but also with Sunagakure _and_ Iwagakure. If our enemies are to strike against us, they will surely cross those lands. We must, therefore, be there to meet them.’

‘Wait, wait,’ Reo spluttered, standing and running a hand through his yellow hair. ‘Lord Danzo, you’re implying that we _invade_ Amegakure to face off against the other Villages? With all due respect, are you absolutely off your rocker?’

A few of the Jonin snickered good-naturedly at Reo’s wide-eyed bamboozlement. Danzo did not see the humorous side of things.’

‘You believe we have not thought this through, Namikaze?’ he scowled, folding his hands under his scarred chin. ‘We do not take war lightly. We know the risks. But as the Hokage has voiced, we cannot stand idle no longer, for if we give Sunagakure or Iwagakure a chance to advance, we lose our edge.’

‘And we could lose land and lives as a result of this,’ Koharu finished.

‘So, what you’re saying is this,’ Orochimaru said quietly. ‘We’re to go to war with Sunagakure and Iwagakure, and use Amegakure as a backdrop for our own violence. You do realise this will only sour relations even further, yes?’

‘We are more than aware, Orochimaru,’ Hiruzen said, his voice full of sadness.

‘How do we know the enemy won’t call a truce, or a cease-fire, and team up against us?’ Isao Akimichi said, chewing his lip worriedly.

‘Don’t be a dumbass, Isao,’ Kenzou said, rolling his eyes. ‘Sunagakure and Iwagakure have been having their own territorial conflicts for generations. Hell would freeze over before they organised a temporary truce, no matter the common interests. Besides, I’d bet anything that the two countries would see this as opportunity to go to war against _each other_. It won’t be one against two, but a three-way battle.’

‘Four, if you include Amegakure,’ Orochimaru murmured.

‘Gods,’ Fumihiro swallowed, absentmindedly touching the scar down his eye where Miki of the Inoshishi had removed his Byakugan. ‘Has it really come to this?’

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Hiruzen let out an aging sigh, setting down his pipe. He looked out over the Jonin, his eyes a mixture of trepidation and despair. _Am I really to risk your lives as well as the peace Tobirama-sensei died for?_ If he wasn’t the Hokage, he knew he would be protesting as vehemently as much as Hiromichi. But he was backed into a corner. Even without Danzo’s constant pressuring, he knew that something _had_ to be done. Threats had been building for nearly a decade. They were running out of time to face the storm. He opened his mouth to speak, but he felt Mito’s hand cover his. Her eyes were steely with the determination of a woman much younger than she was, and when she spoke, it was with great reverence.

‘Listen to me, all of you,’ she said, her voice gentle and assured, but full of authority. ‘I know, better than most gathered here, the immense cost of war. Don’t forget, I remember a time well before the Hidden Villages.’

‘She’s _that_ old?’ Jiraiya whispered, and Tsunade kicked him under the table.

‘I had to fight through the dreadful Warring States Period, which cost more lives than the entirety of the First Shinobi War, and I had to endure when I became the Jinchuriki for the Kyuubi,’ Mito continued, her hands falling against her stomach. ‘I was forced to watch as my dear husband succumbed to his great efforts in securing peace, and later, stood by as my brother-in-law died in the name of _another_ war. I then lost my only daughter at the hands of those who would incite violence.’

Mito’s voice wavered, and she paused to compose herself before she continued. ‘And finally, I lost my precious grandson to the very Village who would seek to destroy us. I _know_ loss. I _know_ pain. And because of this, I understand what war means for all of us sitting here, in this room, and to those sleeping peacefully in their homes. Believe me when I say that this is a last resort. After all, I of all people would do everything in my power to avoid destroying the peace so many of my family have died to protect.’

There was a sober, saddened quiet after Mito’s words. Tsunade pressed her lips together, a lump in her throat. She didn’t often give herself pause to consider everything Mito had gone through. She was either too preoccupied with her own grief, or with her duties, to pay it much thought. But Mito had lost nearly everyone she held dear. And entering into another war meant that there was little to show for it.

‘Thank you for your words, Lady Uzumaki. They were needed,’ Hiruzen said sombrely, before looking to address the room. ‘Whatsmore, I did not only organise this meeting as a call to arms, but also as a request for our next steps. The Council have advised me a great deal about our plans moving forward, but _you_ and your fellow lower-ranked Shinobi will be doing the ground work. As a result, it seems only reasonable that I ask for your advice on the matter.’

‘It’s absurd,’ Chiharu piped up, shaking her head. ‘Lord Third, Lady Uzumaki, with all due respect, there _must_ be a way to avoid an all-out war! Going against Sunagakure _and_ Iwagakure will surely spell disaster, especially with Amegakure likely to retaliate.’

‘I agree with her,’ Sakumo said, speaking for the first time. ‘Lord Third, you remember as well as the rest of us how long it took to recover from the First Shinobi War. To begin another, even if not on our own soil…forgive me, but it seems a little pre-emptive.’

‘I understand your doubts and concerns, but this is going to happen,’ Hiruzen said. ‘It is something we can no longer control. What we _can_ control, however, is our reaction to it. So, I ask again – does anyone have any more words of wisdom for us?’

Slowly, Tsunade stuck her hand in the air.

‘Yes, Tsunade?’ Hiruzen asked curiously.

Tsunade cleared her throat, getting to her feet and glancing at Jiraiya and Orochimaru, both of whom were frowning at her in confusion. ‘Well…it is clearly futile to express my opinion on the war itself, since you have already made your decision, but in terms of advice, I think I have something useful to offer.’

_Of course she does_ , Jiraiya thought to himself, smirking proudly.

‘Well, speak your mind, Tsunade,’ Hiruzen said.

‘I have spent a lot of my time training as a Shinobi to become a medical specialist, as I’m sure you’re aware,’ Tsunade began. ‘Because of this, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect upon what I’ve seen both in the Hospital and out on the field. And while Konoha’s mission success rate is nothing to scoff at, the amount of Shinobi injured, or worse, dying, is exponentially high.’

‘In comparison to what, Princess?’ Danzo sneered.

‘In comparison to the figures of previous years,’ Tsunade said coolly. ‘When I started working full time at the Hospital, at 15, the number of Shinobi returning injured from missions was relatively low. Now, of course, one could argue that it’s all relative – the more missions Konoha takes on, the more likely injuries and deaths are to occur. Except it’s _not_. Compared to the mission rate during the height of the First Shinobi War, and the conflict with Kagero Village, the amount of missions Konoha accepts is actually lower than in previous generations. But the rate of injuries and deaths continues to rise.’

Hiruzen hummed thoughtfully, his eyebrows knitting together. ‘Is that what you were doing when you were rifling through our old reports?’

‘Yes,’ Tsunade said. ‘I was gathering data. Konoha’s capital has actually decreased due to a reduction in mission acceptance, as well as their difficulty rating – and therefore the expense - of such missions. This isn’t surprising, though. Now the other Hidden Villagers are flourishing, likely following a similar framework to ours, there are more options for people seeking to hire Shinobi. So, I couldn’t help but begin to speculate _why_ our injury and death rates were not decreasing too. Less missions surely means less casualties, correct? Well, it’s not. We are losing _more_ Shinobi to mission-related deaths and the Hospital is busier than it has ever been. This begs the question: why?’

‘Because your generation and the generations beneath you are not as capable, perhaps?’ Danzo drawled. Mito looked ready to flatten him for his rudeness, but Tsunade continued calmly.

‘The thought crossed my mind, but the number of Jonin in my generation, Danzo, is actually the highest Konoha has ever seen,’ she said. ‘Whatsmore, the skills of the generations above us are actually waning, with more senior and seasoned Shinobi retiring from active duty and entrusting _us_ instead. So, the issue does not lie with the capabilities of those left, nor with the number of missions Konoha agrees to take on – it is with the organisation of the squads themselves.’

‘What exactly are you getting at, Princess Tsunade?’ Koharu said, leaning forward.

‘I have spent a lot of time thinking about this,’ Tsunade said. ‘And first, in a mission where a four-man cell must act alone for a long period of time, in enemy territory, by deploying one of the four to be a medical specialist, the survival rate as well as the mission success rate should go up significantly. Therefore, establishing a framework to foster Shinobi possessing advanced medical skills and the development of a medical institution, similar to the Academy, should be considered as an urgent task for the present.’

Jiraiya looked at her in awe, his mouth slightly open. _Damn, she makes me feel like I’m not working hard enough._ Orochimaru, meanwhile, was smiling to himself. He didn’t expect anything less of her, to be honest.

Hiruzen sighed and pressed the tips of his fingers together. ‘Yes, indeed, it’s as you say. I can see no flaws in your proposition, and it is worthwhile advice for the coming days. But…’

Tsunade raised her eyebrows. ‘But what? If we’re at war, we’re going to be scattered. I can count the number of combat medical specialists on one hand, myself included – Sarutobi-sensei, if you don’t want the bodies piling up, you have to do something!’

‘Plus, medical specialists get targeted,’ Kenzou piped up. ‘The Princess makes a fair point – there aren’t many who can heal _and_ hold their own against enemy forces. But then again, I bet this sort of thing takes a whole lot of time.’

‘And that is the issue,’ Hiruzen said. ‘We’re to go to war, Tsunade. Such an ambitious project takes time, and our enemies will not wait. Not only that, but we do not possess the knowledge to establish the sort of framework you have envisioned. And while I’m sure you’d volunteer yourself to lead it, we cannot spare you. At present, we lack the time and resources we need.’

Tsunade blinked at him, her jaw tensed in annoyance. ‘So, what? You’re going to ignore my advice?’

‘The Hokage is not ignoring it,’ Homura said. ‘He is simply weighing up his options. I can see you’ve put the work in to devise this, and we appreciate that, but we are not in a position to see it through. Perhaps after the war, hm?’

‘There might not be enough of us to save after the war!’ Tsunade protested, anger getting the better of her. ‘You’re really going to send us,’ – she gestured around the room – ‘into enemy territory without a safety net? I can’t be in a dozen different places at once, you know!’

‘Tsunade, please gather yourself,’ Hiruzen said, holding up a hand. ‘No one is asking that of you. I understand you are passionate about this endeavour, but as it stands, we simply cannot support it.’

Tsunade slammed her hands down on the table, and the noise echoed about the room and startled several of the Jonin.

‘Uh oh,’ Jiraiya gulped.

‘Listen up, you old geezer!’ she seethed. ‘If you’re not brave enough to just throw caution to the wind, for once, and actually _change_ Konoha rather than be bogged down in tradition, then we’re all going to suffer for it! We’ll keep losing people! And we’ll never…’ she trailed off, feeling an unexpected bubble of emotion burn up the back of her throat. There had already been too many reminders of Nawaki that evening, and it was starting to grate.

There was the sound of a chair scraping over the floor, and someone stood to address Hiruzen. Tsunade looked over and saw a young man she vaguely recognised, but she couldn’t place him. He was looking serious, but his face was kind and classically handsome. His hair was a similar length to Orochimaru’s, but a light purple. Tsunade found herself staring at him, her lips parted slightly in both surprise and unanticipated attraction.

‘I agree with her,’ the man said, his voice steady. ‘I don’t want the lives of the Shinobi who died to be for naught. There…there should be something we can learn from them.’ He glanced in Tsunade’s direction, and offered her the smallest of smiles.

Tsunade didn’t really hear Hiruzen’s response. She knew he wasn’t going to follow her advice any time soon, but at the mystery man’s behest, he assured everyone present that he would keep Tsunade’s proposal in mind. The rest of the meeting was spent with people bickering about the coming days, promises that Konoha would get through it, and that more strategy meetings would be held in the coming weeks. In the meantime, the Jonin were essentially told to be on standby and await further orders.

‘Well, that was a real riot,’ Jiraiya said, stretching out his arms as the meeting adjourned. ‘Sorry about your plan, Tsu. It sounded really smart and everything.’

Tsunade didn’t reply. She was too busy craning her neck in an attempt to spot the man who had come to her aid.

‘Yes, it was most reasonable,’ Orochimaru agreed. ‘It’s just a shame that -’

‘ – sorry, I need to dash!’ Tsunade said, spotting the man as he set off through the doorway. ‘Catch you two later!’

‘Tsu, wait – oh, she’s gone,’ Jiraiya sighed. ‘I was gonna see if she wanted to grab a bite to eat or something.’

‘She seemed in a hurry,’ Orochimaru frowned, watching as she pushed her way through the others and avoided people trying to get her attention.

‘Ah, she can have her secrets,’ Jiraiya grinned. ‘Still, I really am starving. Ramen?’

‘Good idea. I could do with the distraction,’ Orochimaru said gravely.

*

‘Um, excuse me!’ Tsunade called, rounding the corner and catching up to the man. She was slightly out of breath and her heart was beating wildly. _Wait, what do I even say? Thanks? God, that sounds so lame. It’s not like he managed changed Sarutobi-sensei’s mind, anyway. Oh, he’s staring at me. Quick! Say something!_

‘Er – yes – I just wanted to say thanks!’ Tsunade stammered, hardly able to meet the man’s eyes. _What the heck is wrong with me?!_ ‘You know, for earlier. It’s nice to know at least someone doesn’t think me foolish.’

‘Why, I could never think that,’ the man said, a smile playing on his lips. He tucked a lose strand of hair behind his ear, and cleared his throat. ‘What you said was right, and it took a lot of guts to say it.’

‘O-oh. Thanks,’ Tsunade said, feeling warmth flush in her cheeks.

‘Um,’ the man said, suddenly looking a little bashful. ‘It’s late. Do you – I mean, shall I walk you home?’

Tsunade blinked at him in surprise. No one except for Jiraiya had offered that before.

‘Not that I think you need it!’ the man said hastily, waving his hands in the air. ‘You can clearly handle yourself, obviously, and I didn’t want to imply that you needed – er – protection or anything stupid like that, it’s just – yeah. I would be happy to.’

‘What?’ Tsunade said. ‘Is – is that okay with you? Where’s your home?’

‘The other way,’ the man chuckled, indicating over his shoulder with his thumb.

‘Then don’t bother! Seriously!’ Tsunade replied.

‘I didn’t phrase this very well, huh?’ the man grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets. ‘I’d like to walk you home. Regardless of your capabilities against any would-be criminals, and regardless of where my house is. So, what do you say?’

A million thoughts rushed through Tsunade’s dazed brain, but the one that burst through most clearly was very simple: _yes_.

‘Sure,’ she said, smiling shyly. She cleared her throat and held out her hand. ‘I’m Tsunade, by the way. I realised we’ve been talking and I don’t even know your name.’

‘What, you don’t remember me?’ the man winked. ‘No matter. We never really got properly introduced. My name is Dan Kato. It’s nice to meet you, Tsunade.’ He took her hand in his and squeezed it firmly. Tsunade’s breath caught in her throat. This was the first time she’d felt caught off-guard. It was like her brain had turned to mush, and Dan’s charming wink had short circuited her head.

‘Er,’ Dan laughed, glancing at their hands, ‘should we get going, then?’

‘Oh!’ Tsunade exclaimed, realising with some embarrassment that she’d been holding on to his hand for longer than socially acceptable. ‘Yes! Let’s! Good idea!’

Flustered, she marched in front of him, trying to regain her cool. ‘So, you say I should remember you? Did I fix up a broken limb, or something?’

‘Nothing so glamorous,’ Dan grinned, falling into step with her. ‘Though I’m sure you mended more than a few of my teammate’s broken bones. Touta was always a clumsy so and so.’

The name hit Tsunade’s brain like a frying pan to the face. _Touta…and Noriko_! The two had been members of one of Komako’s squads, and they had been…

‘Oh, God,’ she murmured, her hand over her mouth. ‘Dan, I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, it’s alright,’ Dan said, tilting his head up to admire the stars. ‘I mean, it was likely pretty hard on you and your two friends, finding them like that. And then your mother…really, I’m the one who should be saying sorry.’

Touta and Noriko were, of course, the two Chuunin who had been mercilessly slaughtered by the Inoshishi. Tsunade, Jiraiya and Orochimaru had found them a short time before they discovered Jun, who had been fatally wounded, and all they could do was close their eyes. _This man…he lost his whole team in one day._

When Tsunade didn’t reply, Dan filled the silence. ‘You know, I wanted to talk to you after Komako-sensei’s funeral, but I just…well, you seemed pretty swamped. And I didn’t think you’d appreciate a near stranger coming up to you and trying to offer condolences.’

‘I think you’re the only one in the whole Village who thought that,’ Tsunade said weakly. ‘It felt like I was going to drown in that never-ending barrage of empty commiserations.’

‘I know what that’s like,’ Dan said. ‘But for the record, and if you don’t mind me saying, I truly am sorry for what happened. She was an extraordinary sensei and an even more extraordinary woman. She really helped me to believe in myself, you know? And that’s a rare quality.’

For some reason, Dan’s condolences didn’t get on Tsunade’s last nerve, like all the others had. She wondered if it was because it had been so long, but really, it’s because she felt like Dan meant every word. And that he understood, too.

‘Is that why you were so eager to jump to my defence in the meeting?’ Tsunade smiled. ‘Reckon I need someone to believe in me, hm?’

‘You have plenty of self-belief already, I’d wager,’ Dan grinned. ‘I’ve seen those schemes you’ve established in the Hospital – all good things, too. I attended a few of those sessions on dealing with grief, actually. Really helped! I left some positive feedback in that submissions box at reception!’

‘Are you sucking up to me, or is this your usual conversational pattern?’ Tsunade smirked.

It was Dan’s turn to blush, and he waved his hands in the air again. ‘No, not at all! I’m being serious! You really have done a great job!’

‘Thank you,’ Tsunade said. ‘The sessions…were they for Touta and Noriko? I mean, it must have been incredibly difficult, losing your teammates and Sensei. I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without Jiraiya and Oro.’ She shuddered slightly just thinking about it, and then felt guilty for her lack to tact.

Dan sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. ‘Yeah, it had its moments. But I attended the sessions because I lost my younger sister. There was an attack last year, and she…well, she was caught up in it. Too young. But you’d know all about that.’

‘Yeah, I…’ Tsunade trailed off, swallowing thickly. ‘That must have been hard. I’m glad those sessions offered a little comfort, at least.’

‘They did. And you know, that’s partly why I wanted to walk you home. My sister, I mean,’ Dan admitted quietly. ‘You see, I loved this path. It’s the one I would walk when I took her to the Academy. Brings back fond memories, you know?’

‘What, so walking me home has nothing to do with my winning personality?’ Tsunade grinned, raising her eyebrows.

‘Well it’s certainly not the nonchalant way you deal with other people’s grief,’ Dan chuckled. When Tsunade opened her mouth to apologise, looking alarmed, he gently touched her arm. ‘No, I mean that as a good thing, Tsunade. It’s…very refreshing. Normally, when I try to talk about this stuff with other people, they look at me like I’m about to break. I can’t stand it.’

_This man is exactly the same as me_. Tsunade stole a look at him, and noticed all at once how handsome he was. The moon was casting an ethereal glow over his hair, and his dark eyes twinkled pleasantly in the yellowing light of the street-lamps. There was an air about him that Tsunade couldn’t even begin to describe. It was almost like self-assurance, but there was an endearing shyness than undercut any arrogance. He seemed a little rough around the edged, a little wounded, and a little awkward, but there was a settling calm that made her feel – there was no other word for it – at ease. And it was incredible to her how quickly she felt comfortable with him. The previous men in her life had either been unwarranted, like the man at the bar, or only interested in her for her appearance. But Dan had been respectable and gentle, his words kind and genuine, and his smile honest. Tsunade didn’t believe in destiny, but in that moment, she could have sworn the stars had aligned.

The walk took some time, but that was because Tsunade had purposefully slowed her pace. She felt like she would never tire of their conversation, and she started to lose track of time as well as the words they shared. They spoke about their lost loved ones, but then of how much fun they used to share when they were alive. They spoke of their hardest missions, but also of their most rewarding ones. Dan practically chewed her ear off about the jutsu he was working on – _‘it’s called the Ghost Transformation Technique, and it does pretty much what it says on the tin!_ – and Tsunade excitedly told him about the self-defence classes she was leading – _‘now it won’t just be Shinobi who can defend themselves, but the ordinary folk, too!_ ’. They lost themselves for a magical hour. Tsunade had no idea what had happened, but it felt like, as cliched at it sounds, like she had known Dan for years.

When they arrived at her flat, Dan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. ‘Wow, sorry. That dragged on a bit, huh? I only wanted to walk you home, not bore you with all my stories.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Tsunade said. ‘I…enjoyed you. It! I mean – I enjoyed it as in the stories, not you like specifically.’

‘Gee, thanks,’ Dan grinned, biting back his laughter. Tsunade was looking like a deer in the headlights and he found it quite sweet. 

‘No!’ she gasped, blushing. ‘I did like you! As in – you know, your company. Yeah. Your company was nice. And the conversation, too. So – so don’t apologise. I’m really glad to have met you properly and thanks a million for not introducing yourself at my mother’s funeral because I probably would have smacked you!’

Dan burst out laughing. ‘Thanks for the warning. I’m even gladder I made that judgement call, then.’ 

Tsunade chuckled weakly, shaking her head. ‘God, I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, I can assure you.’

‘Like what?’ Dan said. ‘Because all I see is a beautiful young woman with enough intelligence and capability to do some real good in the world.’

Tsunade’s words choked in her throat and Dan went scarlet, as if realising what he had said.

‘Ah! I – that was overboard of me and incredibly presumptuous, I’m so sorry!’ he said, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut. ‘Please, forget I said anything! And feel absolutely no pressure to respond in any way!’

Tsunade gazed at him, a fondness rising in her chest.

‘I don’t particularly want to forget,’ she said softly. She watched as Dan lifted his head up, his cheeks still pink, and he stared at her with a mixture of surprise and hopefulness.

‘You – you don’t?’ he said.

Tsunade shook her head.

‘And you’re not going to smack me for being so…bold?’

‘You only called me beautiful, Dan,’ Tsunade smirked. ‘Believe it or not, but I can handle that.’

‘I also called you intelligent and capable, which to me, is a thousand times more important than your looks,’ he replied, his eyes warm. ‘But you are, you know. Beautiful. And…I should definitely shut up before I make things any more awkward than they already are, huh?’

Tsunade laughed, pressing her hand over her mouth. ‘That might be an idea.’

Dan chucked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. ‘Yes. Anyway, I should bid you goodnight. It was…really nice to talk to you, Tsunade. You’re not at all what I thought you’d be.’

‘You thought me a snobby Princess like the rest of them?’ Tsunade said.

‘…is that bad to admit?’

Tsunade grinned, shaking her head. ‘Not at all. The title doesn’t help, and I was a bit of a brat back in the day. But I think I’ve started to prove myself otherwise.’

‘You’ve certainly proven me wrong, that’s for sure,’ Dan nodded. ‘And I…well, if you would like to continue proving me wrong, I was wondering if I could ask if we might do this again?’

Tsunade’s heart leapt and she fought to keep her smile under control. ‘What, embarrass ourselves on my doorstep?’

‘I mean, I was hoping to go to a restaurant, but the destination doesn’t make the date. The person does,’ Dan winked.

‘A restaurant sounds lovely,’ Tsunade said.

Dan seemed to glitch a bit, before his eyes widened. ‘What, for real?’

‘Yeah!’ Tsunade snorted.

‘I…that’s great!’ Dan beamed. ‘Wow! Okay, well, I can imagine you’re very busy and I don’t want to bombard you, so-’

‘– I’m free tomorrow after 7pm,’ Tsunade said, turning to unlock her door. ‘I’ll meet you outside the Hospital.’

‘O-okay! Sure!’ Dan said. ‘I look forward to it!’

‘Goodnight, Dan,’ Tsunade smiled, opening the door and slipping inside.

‘Yeah…goodnight,’ Dan murmured.

*

On the other side of Konoha, Sakumo Hatake was squeezing his wife’s hand as she screamed the roof down. He had been on his way back home after Hiruzen’s meeting, feeling exceptionally anxious, when a medical ninja appeared out of nowhere to inform him that Kiyoko had gone into labour. All thoughts of the coming war evaporated from his mind, and he had never sprinted anywhere so quickly in his life.

‘Is this normal?’ Sakumo said nervously, as Biwako and another medical ninja bustled about a shrieking Kiyoko’s bedside.

‘Of course it’s normal!’ Kiyoko screeched. ‘I’m having a _baby_ , you idiot, and it’s all your fault!’

‘I mean, technically it’s only like 50% my fault, but – oof!’ Sakumo was cut off when Kiyoko’s bone-breaking grip on his hand increased, and pain shot across his palm. _She’s not even a Shinobi, but she still packs this much of a punch_?!

‘You’re doing wonderfully,’ Biwako soothed.

‘Thanks,’ Sakumo sighed, wiping sweat of his forehead. ‘I’m not really sure if anything I’m saying is helping, but -’

‘Not you, Hatake,’ Biwako snapped. ‘I was talking to Kiyoko.’

‘Right, right,’ Sakumo gulped, feeling incredibly out of his depth.

He was going to feel out of his depth for the rest of his life, because the moment Biwako delivered the baby, his entire universe changed. His perspective on everything warped, and suddenly, Kiyoko wasn’t the most important person to him in the world, anymore. All that mattered was the tiny life squirming in her arms, red-faced and crying, a tuft of white hair sticking up from the top of his little head. Sakumo felt a lump in his throat, and he shakily rested his large hand atop of his son’s head. 

‘Oh, Kiyoko,’ he murmured, tears blurring his vision. ‘Look at him!’

‘I know. He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect,’ she breathed.

Sakumo leant down and pressed a kiss to Kiyoko’s sweaty forehead, feeling more fulfilled than he ever had. But even amongst that overwhelming feeling of contentment, a niggling spike of anxiety pricked up. His son had been born at the dawn of war.

Swallowing, Sakumo rubbed his thumb over the tiny wrinkles on his son’s forehead, tears hot in his eyes.

_Kakashi Hatake. I don’t know what sort of life you’re going to have, and these coming years, your first years, are going to be…scary. But you won’t have to face any of that. Not yet, at least. You stay safe, warm and snug in your mother’s arms, and let your Dad go out there and stop the bad guys. And when you’re big enough, I’ll tell you all my stories. Your mother will probably get bored, because she’ll have heard them all before, but you’re going to love them, because your old man gets to be a kickass hero. I’ll make you proud. But don’t worry about returning the favour – I’m already so proud of you that I think I might burst. My son. No matter what you do, no matter who you become, I will be proud of until my dying breath._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so, thank you so much for the wonderful response on last week's chapter - genuinely means so much and leaves me feeling absolutely thrilled❤ Secondly, this chapter was very tricky for a number of reasons: there's a lot going on, a lot of canonical stuff to cover, and a lack of information.  
> As far as I'm aware (from memory and from research), all we know about the Second Shinobi War was that it was twenty years after the first (just like WW1 and WW2, interestingly enough), it was between the Sand, the Stone, the Leaf, and the Rain, AND that Nagato describes it as 'the war Konoha started'. So, with that in mind, I had much to juggle. Technically, Dan and Tsunade meet during the war, but I changed that so I could introduce him sooner. Plus, the fact that Nawaki died nine years before the start of the war seems insane, since the source material implies it was during the war itself, but then the timeline doesn't match up and the ages are wrong. Anyway, rest assured, everything is consistent this way 😂  
> For those wondering, Tsunade's dialogue about the medical specialist in a four man cell comes directly from the subbed episode of Naruto, episode 91 to be exact, entitled 'Inheritance! The Necklace of Death!', so, if it sounded familiar, that's why! 😁  
> Finally, I hope you like Dan lol. There really isn't much to go on, but a lot of fans say he's similar to Minato (obviously, I do not buy the fan theory that Dan and Tsunade are Minato's parents, since again, the ages wouldn't work), but in any case, he is loosely based off Minato! Just a bit more awkward 😅 I also love mentioning the canonical characters (Shikaku, Minato, Shinku etc) and their made-up families. Really looking forward to having Kushina and Minato dabble in the background of this fic!  
> FINALLY finally, for real this time, a fun fact! This fic was never meant to be so...long. Truly. I had things planned, don't get me wrong, but the chapter length was initially much smaller and there were less details. I mean, you only need to look at chapter one, which was 2,226 words, compared to this chapter, at 15,134, to see that! Obviously, quantity does not mean quality, so please do say if I waffle. I tend to. My Professors say I add too much details 😂 But really, it's your infectious enthusiasm for our tragic heroes that has inspired me to go wild! So thank you for that!!  
> Anyway, congrats for reading my ramblings if you got this far 😂 Happy reading my friends!❤


	28. Broken Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orochimaru seeks counsel, Tsunade catches feelings, and Jiraiya is dealt two crushing blows. 
> 
> *WARNING* For depictions of terminal illness. For real. It's pretty sad.

Chapter 28 – Broken Hearts 

Date: 52 A.K. (After Konoha)

A few months had passed since Hiruzen made his announcement, and at the beginning of the new year, Konoha had declared war against Sunagakure and Iwagakure. Already, forces were mobilising along the borders. Orochimaru had partaken in a several missions on behalf of the ANBU, but as far as he was aware, Tsunade and Jiraiya had avoided much of the major battles. He found the idea hard to believe – after all, they were two of Konoha’s most valuable assets – but, on reflection, he could only conclude that Hiruzen was saving them for when they were needed most. Amegakure were still lying in wait, calculating when best to strike, so it was clear that the worst was yet to come. There had already been casualties, their names forgotten with the wind. The bodies would pile up. The living would mourn. It was inevitable, in a life of war.

Orochimaru stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets, puffing out a frozen breath from the cold. It was still early, and the cuts and bruises on his face from his last mission stung against the icy morning mists. His heart was heavy and his dreams plagued with Nawaki. Being back in battle, having to witness his fellow Shinobi be mercilessly cut down, had dredged up memories he would sooner forget. Alongside that was the nagging anxiety about Danzo’s plan to do away with Hiruzen. Orochimaru _still_ hadn’t found any concrete evidence to expose him, though truthfully, he hadn’t been in the Village for long enough stints to dig any deeper. With that, he had kept his mouth firmly shut, the burden buckling his knees the longer he spent in silence. It might have been a subconscious need to be free of his torturous knowledge, then, that led him right outside Sakumo Hatake’s house.

Swallowing thickly, Orochimaru held up a pale fist and rapped against the door. Ever since they became Squad Leaders – or perhaps even before that, when Sakumo aided them against Miki and the Inoshishi – Orochimaru had counted him as a friend. He existed in a sphere separate from Tsunade and Jiraiya, separate from the ANBU, and separate from the rest of his old classmates. Because of this, Sakumo had, rather unexpectedly, become a sort of confidant for Orochimaru to lessen the weight of his soul.

‘Yes?’ Sakumo said, wrenching open the door. His eyes were puffy with shadows from unslept nights, and there was a suspicious stain on the shoulder of his blue shirt. Clearly, fatherhood was a great burden for Konoha’s White Fang.

‘Hatake – I apologise for the early hour,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’

‘No more than Kakashi,’ Sakumo chuckled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. ‘Honestly, the little nipper has been up all night. Really testing our sanity, you know?’

Orochimaru didn’t know, but he smiled politely nonetheless. He had yet to meet the newest addition to the Hatake family, though according to a rather high-pitched report from Tsunade, he was _the absolute cutest thing I’ve ever seen!!_

‘D’you need something, kid?’ Sakumo asked, leaning against the doorframe.

‘I…suppose so,’ Orochimaru said, puzzled. He hadn’t really expected to find himself at Sakumo’s house in the first place, let alone with the knowledge of how to unburden himself. If anything, he wasn’t sure if he could. Speaking of Danzo’s plot with another would not only involve a secondary party, but also add to the load. Sakumo had a four-month-old baby; revealing such dark intentions from one of Konoha’s higher-ups would undoubtedly cause stress.

Sakumo frowned at him, stepping to the side. ‘Say, why don’t you come in? It’s freezing out there, and the last thing I need is for Kakashi to have _another_ thing to cry about.’

Orochimaru nodded and ducked into the house. It smelt of baby, whatever that meant. There was the occasional smell of milk and an unusual sweetness one could only define as talcum powder. It was warm inside, and Orochimaru let out a content sigh. If he hated anything, it was being cold. It reminded him of the days after his parents had died, when he had done little else but spend his nights curled up, outside, under their headstones.

‘I’ll make us some tea,’ Sakumo said, stifling a yawn.

‘You really haven’t been sleeping well, hm?’ Orochimaru commented.

‘You can tell?’ Sakumo chuckled, filling a little clay teapot with water. ‘Well, I suppose it’s one of the many consequences of being a father. It’s Kiyoko you should feel sorry for, though – she’s as weak as anything and constantly having to feed him!’

‘Weak? Is she ill?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘No, no, I don’t think so,’ Sakumo said, lighting the stove and settling the kettle over the flames. ‘It’s just…a lot, you know? Don’t get me wrong, we both wanted a child more than anything, but nothing can really prepare you for it. I think she’s just exhausted.’

‘Well, if you’re worried, you can always get Tsunade’s advice,’ Orochimaru said.

‘Ah, she’s done more than enough for our little lot already!’ Sakumo grinned. ‘She was here a few days ago when Kiyoko was feeling particularly rotten – you know, very lethargic and stressed out – and Tsunade really came through. Spoke to Kiyoko for hours. But anyway, Tsunade isn’t an expert in postnatal care. If we needed more support, Biwako would be our first port of call.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Orochimaru said.

‘Huh?’

‘Haven’t you heard?’ Orochimaru said, surprised that he was more aware of the gossip than someone else, for once. ‘She’s pregnant again.’

‘What, already?’ Sakumo spluttered. ‘But they only just had Asuma!’

‘He’s nearly four, Hatake,’ Orochimaru said, quite amused.

Shaking his head, Sakumo leant heavily on the worksurface. ‘Sheesh, four years old already? I feel like he was only born the other day!’

‘Time flies,’ Orochimaru shrugged.

‘Well, they sure know how to pick their timing,’ Sakumo said. ‘I mean, I thought it bad enough that we had Kakashi at the dawn of war, but their child is going to born slap bang in the middle of it.’

‘You really think the war will last for that long?’

Sakumo let out a low whistle, running his hand through his hair. ‘I can’t say for sure, Orochimaru, but it’s not looking good. I was there, you know. When we charged for the first time.’

Orochimaru shuddered slightly. He had heard about that – Konoha’s First Strike. It was a bloody affair to the north of the Land of Fire, where forces from Sunagakure had breached. Initially, the Sand Shinobi had been left to their own devices, and it wasn’t until Konoha declared them as an aggressor did they pledge combat. Sakumo shone on the battlefield, but he could not save everyone. No one ever could. Years from now, people would say that Konoha’s First Strike spilt so much blood on the battlefield, that it sloshed around the ankles of those unfortunate enough to be there. Konoha won the day and pushed Sunagakure back, but the cost was so heavy that no one even thought it was worth it.

‘Anyway,’ Sakumo said quietly, his face pale from the memory, ‘I can’t really speculate about how long this war will last because I haven’t seen all sides of it. Though I suspect it’ll rage on for longer than anyone would like.’

‘Not surprising, really,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Tensions have been brewing for over a decade. The river of bad blood between the Nations was always bound to transform into a tempest – now, we can only hope to weather the storm.’

‘You don’t agree with the war, judging by your tone,’ Sakumo said. ‘Though you weren’t exactly vocal at that first meeting, if memory serves.’

‘There’s no point in fighting Danzo when he has reached a decision.’

‘Lord Danzo?’ Sakumo said, raising his eyebrows. ‘I was under the impression that this was Lord Third’s will.’

Orochimaru twisted his hands together, preparing to breach dangerous territory. ‘I have a feeling that Danzo has more to do with this war than any of us first realised.’

Sakumo nodded slowly, prepping the teacups on the worksurface. He could sense that Orochimaru was gearing up to tell him something, for there was a heavy tension hanging in the room. But before he could continue, Kiyoko shuffled into the kitchen.

‘Oh!’ she said, pulling a shawl more tightly around her shoulders as she manoeuvred a squirming bundle in her arms. ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t realise we had company!’

Orochimaru straightened up. ‘I apologise for disturbing you so early.’

‘Oh, not to worry,’ Kiyoko said, managing a smile. She looked utterly exhausted, and, to Orochimaru’s worry, much thinner than she had been a few months ago. ‘Say, you haven’t met our son yet, have you, Orochimaru?’

Her face bright despite her tiredness, Kiyoko edged forward and offered the bundle in her arms towards Orochimaru’s rigid frame. He kept his arms glued to his sides, hoping she wasn’t expecting him to hold the baby, but she paused when she had moved closer.

‘Go on,’ she said softly, ‘you can say hello!’

Gingerly, Orochimaru’s pale fingers gently parted the blanket. The bundle squirmed in Kiyoko’s arms, as if affronted at being exposed by a stranger, before settling down again with a content sigh. Orochimaru’s lips opened slightly in surprise.

‘He’s small,’ he whispered, keeping his voice low for fear of startling the little thing.

‘He’s only a few months,’ Kiyoko said warmly. ‘But at the rate he’s been feeding, he’ll be plenty big in no time!’

A small smile playing on his face, Orochimaru stroked his fingertips over the soft, white crop of hair sticking up from the baby’s head. ‘He looks like you.’

‘You think?’ Kiyoko beamed. ‘I reckon he looks more like his father. I know they’re not open right now, but Kakashi definitely has his eyes.’

‘I have my mother’s eyes,’ Orochimaru said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He swallowed thickly, his fingers tickling gently on the underside of Kakashi’s chubby chin. The baby pulled a face, and Orochimaru was momentarily alarmed that he’d disturbed him. He’s never actually met a baby before. Nawaki had been three when they’d first made their acquaintance, so he didn’t exactly have much experience with babies. Holding his breath, he waited for Kakashi’s reaction, before the little thing let out a happy gurgle.

‘Hey, he likes you!’ Sakumo said, clearly as surprised as Orochimaru was.

‘You think?’ Orochimaru said, a frown knitting his eyebrows.

‘For sure – aw, look!’ Sakumo cooed, leaning over and grinning when Kakashi’s chubby fist clenched around one of Orochimaru’s spidery fingers. ‘Yeah, he definitely likes you, kid!’

‘Oh, this is good!’ Kiyoko gasped. ‘Apparently, babies develop finer motor skills – such as grip – when they’re about four months! Means he’s on track!’

‘For what? Finger grabbing?’ Sakumo said.

‘No, for developing into a healthy child,’ Kiyoko said, rolling her eyes. ‘I’ll have to go and write this down. Here – since he likes you so much, you take him!’

‘Oh, I really shouldn’t,’ Orochimaru spluttered, but Kiyoko was already shoving Kakashi into his arms, before scurrying off to record his latest progress. She was nervous about motherhood, and about doing ‘the right thing’. Sakumo had assured her, time and time again, that the only thing Kakashi truly needed was love, but she still held herself to an excruciatingly high standard. It was part of the reason her nights were long and sleepless – if it wasn’t Kakashi crying, it was her own mind whirring with anxiety.

‘Well, looks like you’re the first person we’ll be seeking out if we ever need a babysitter,’ Sakumo smirked, as Orochimaru cautiously shifted Kakashi in his arms.

‘Am I doing this right?’ he gulped.

‘Just support his head and you’ll be fine,’ Sakumo grinned. ‘Sorry, though. I’m sure getting ambushed by my wife and son wasn’t what you had planned when you came to visit.’

Orochimaru sighed, watching Kakashi’s eyelids droop with sleep as he snugged against his chest. ‘In all honestly, Hatake, I…I hardly know why I came here at all.’

Sakumo nodded slowly, his eyes never straying from Orochimaru. The young man looked deeply troubled. _Well, that’s nothing new. Ever since I met the kid, there always seemed to be something weighing him down_. He took a deep breath, pouring the boiled water in the teacups, and set the kettle down with a sigh.

‘Listen, kid,’ he said, his voice low, ‘you always walk around like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, you know? I can see it even now – it’s like a chain dangling around your neck and dragging you down. And I don’t want to pry, but in my experience, unburdening yourself on another soul can be a big relief. Even if it’s only temporary, to share your concerns with someone else can lighten your heart. Hell, I know that better than anyone. And deep down, I’m sure you do, too.’

Orochimaru looked down at the baby in his arms. He knew it all too well. He remembered sharing his grief with Hiruzen at his parent’s grave, where they discovered the white snake skin. He remembered sharing his sorrow with Tsunade when they were just seven years old, and how she had held him tightly and let him sob into her chest, never angering despite his words towards her. He remembered sharing his panic about being Nawaki’s Sensei with Jiraiya, as they watched the stars, and Jiraiya had offered him a shoulder to rest his weary head. And he knew that Jiraiya and Tsunade had shared their own problems with him, too. When Jiraiya told him about the Child of Prophecy he was destined to find, Orochimaru had offered his support. When Tsunade had mourned for Hashirama, for Tobirama, for her mother and Nawaki, he had been there for her, in her corner, waiting to listen. It was the very basis of their friendship. The three of them shared, they mourned, and they fought for each other. It was a simple enough sentiment, really.

But _this_ was different. This was a conspiracy that he just couldn’t involve them in. Jiraiya, in all his brashness, would charge in headfirst, foolhardy as he was, and not think about the consequences. Tsunade would be caught half-way between fury at Danzo and mortification at her father for planning such a move. _And the two of them are doing as well as can be expected at the moment. I cannot risk ruining that._ Jiraiya, despite his grief when dealing with Benjiro’s illness, was the beating heart of the Shinobi populace, and for once in his life, respected as a reliable and worthy fighter. Tsunade was rebuilding her life through her work and her new relationship. Orochimaru would never forgive himself for breaking what the pair of them had fought so hard to forge.

‘I wish it were that simple,’ Orochimaru replied, after a few moments of silence. Kakashi was warm in his arms, and he felt a pang for the little thing. _What sort of life are you going to have, hm? Are you going to have burdens so great, you can’t bring yourself to share them with the ones you love?_

Wordlessly, Sakumo pushed a teacup along the worksurface to Orochimaru, a strange expression on his face.

‘Well, it rarely is,’ he agreed, blowing on his own tea. ‘But you know, you came here for a reason. A part of you must _want_ to talk, right? About what’s bothering you?’

_A million things are bothering me_ , Orochimaru thought bitterly. _If it’s not my parents, it’s my inner conflict with myself. If it’s not that, it’s Jiraiya. And if it’s not him, it’s Danzo and this plot of his. Where would I even begin?_

‘I’m sorry for bothering you, Sakumo,’ Orochimaru murmured, eyes downcast.

Sakumo was taken-aback. It was the first time Orochimaru had used his first name. ‘Hey, now wait just a minute. Who said anything about bothering anyone? I’m not doing anything right now, and the last time I checked, you were doing a fine job of keeping my son entertained. There’s no rush. Take your time.’

‘But I…I can’t tell you,’ Orochimaru said, swallowing thickly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I haven’t worked it all out yet.’

‘That’s okay,’ Sakumo said slowly, sipping from his cup. ‘You don’t have to work everything out just yet. Some things take a lot of time and a lot of energy to figure out. You know that, right? It’s okay to be unsure, no matter your age, no matter your position in life. Some decisions are so weighty that they can take lifetimes to muddle out.’

The gentle words settled over Orochimaru like cherry blossoms pinpricking the surface of a shimmering lake. Relief was all he could feel, and for a moment, he forgot all about the emotions swirling around in his heart, each battling for attention, each draining his battery. But then, Danzo’s face settled in front of his mind.

‘The thing is, Sakumo,’ Orochimaru said, subconsciously cradling Kakashi closer to him, ‘I…need some advice.’

‘Oh? I’m all ears.’

‘It’s just…what if you found out that something awful was going to happen, but you can’t prove that it will?’ Orochimaru said carefully.

Sakumo set his cup down on the table, brow furrowed in thought. ‘Well, I’d do my darndest to prove it was it going to happen, I think. But you have to ask the question, first and foremost, about whether you’re certain this cataclysmic event will even happen.’

‘Oh, I’m certain,’ Orochimaru muttered. ‘I’m just not sure when.’

‘Is this…hypothetical?’

Orochimaru pressed his lips together. ‘Sakumo, I truly wish I could tell you more, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen and worry for your involvement.’

‘I can’t exactly help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, kid,’ Sakumo said.

‘I know. It’s just…complicated. There are so many moving parts. So much to hold accountable. And I’m very aware about the corner you’d be forced into if you knew.’

Sakumo sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair so it stuck up at odd angles. ‘Alright, alright. If you can’t tell me, then I get it. But as far as advice goes, I’m not sure what I can offer if I don’t know the context. I guess you just need to weigh up your options.’

‘In what way?’ Orochimaru asked.

‘I mean that you have gotta figure out what sort of fallout there will be depending on the path you choose,’ he said. ‘And I know that isn’t easy, given that you can never really predict how things will turn out, but you need to use your experience to make a judgement call. So, for sake of argument, if you do nothing, what will happen?’

Orochimaru shuddered at the thought.

‘Right,’ Sakumo nodded. ‘But if you do _something_ , whether it’s getting proof or actually acting on your own instinct, would that result end up being worse in the long run?’

Orochimaru swallowed thickly. _I doubt I’d ever find out what happened to my parents…I’d be dropped from Root…likely put on Danzo’s hit list…and Sarutobi-sensei wouldn’t trust me_. _But is that really worth his death?_

‘It seems to me like you’re stuck between a rock and hard place, kid,’ Sakumo said, placing one hand on Orochimaru’s shoulder, and the other on Kakashi’s little head. ‘But you need to try and envision the outcomes. If one is worse than the other, then hell, you already have your decision made for you.’

‘I need to weigh up the risk verses the fallout, you mean?’ Orochimaru said, as Kakashi wriggled happily at his father’s attention.

‘You need to weigh up the good verses the bad,’ Sakumo replied. ‘That isn’t an easy thing to do. But you know, kid, you’re a pretty splendid Shinobi. Whatever you decide will be for the best – I’m sure of it.’

‘I wish I had your confidence,’ Orochimaru sighed, handing Kakashi over into Sakumo’s open arms.

‘It’s not confidence – it’s experience,’ Sakumo shrugged. ‘I mean, I saw how well you handled yourself with the Inoshishi business, and you were only what, 15? Besides, I’m sure Lord Third’s teachings will keep your moral compass in check, if nothing else.’

Orochimaru grimaced into his cup. ‘I rather think that Danzo’s teachings contradict much of Sarutobi-sensei’s.’

‘Well, then you’re a product of the light and the dark,’ Sakumo said. ‘And both are necessary for the Village to thrive.’

‘Even darkness?’

‘Even darkness,’ Sakumo nodded. ‘Look, I’m under no pretence that Lord Danzo is all sunshine and rainbows, and I know you must have done some pretty hairy stuff in his name. But the man wants what’s best for Konoha, and sometimes, for that to happen, a little darkness is needed. The trick is to keep the balance. Take this situation you’re in, for example – if you need to allow a dark turn for the betterment of the light, then so be it. But if that darkness threatens to drown out the light, then…well, you know what you need to do.’

Orochimaru nodded slowly, his mind heavy, but his heart lighter. Letting Hiruzen die would undoubtedly tip the scales into the realms of darkness. But what could do without risking his own wants and desires? He didn’t know how much time he had left. The war had started and Hiruzen was distracted – Danzo and Taichi could organise a strike at any time. If he needed evidence – which would be hard to find, given Danzo’s scrupulousness – he had to focus.

‘I’ll give it a week,’ he said, thinking aloud. Sakumo looked at him oddly, but pressed him no further.

‘To the week, then,’ he said, smiling and clinking his cup against Orochimaru’s.

*

‘I forget how good you clean up, Tsu,’ Jiraiya grinned, as he met her outside the barbecue place. He was waiting for her and Akari to arrive so they could go in together. He was fully aware that Dan was already inside, having grabbed a table, but the last thing he wanted was to hang out one-on-one with the man he classed as his ‘romantic rival’.

‘Oh, save it,’ she said grouchily.

‘I was complimenting you!’

‘Well I don’t feel like I’ve cleaned up well,’ she mumbled, fiddling with the ends of her hair. ‘I’ve been on nights for the past few weeks since the Hospital is flooded with the injured, and I haven’t slept a bloody wink. I must look a sight.’

‘Not at all,’ Jiraiya said quietly, his eyes soft. ‘In fact, I think you look -’

‘ – beautiful!’ Dan gasped, sticking his head out of the door of the establishment. ‘Tsunade, you look gorgeous!’

Jiraiya grimaced as Dan, looking quite flustered, buddled her up in a warm hug.

‘You’re just saying that because you’ve only seen me in scrubs these past few weeks,’ Tsunade said sternly, but the fond look in her eyes betrayed her. When she was with Dan, much to Jiraiya’s irritation, she seemed to have a shine about her that made everyone want to look at her. It was a glow that Jiraiya thought had long since departed – the glow of happiness. As much as he hated to admit it, the few months Tsunade had been with Dan were the happiest he’d seen her (without the help of alcohol, of course) since Nawaki’s passing. It stung him and reassured him at the same time.

‘Nonsense. You look beautiful in anything,’ Dan smiled, beaming at her like she was the only thing worth looking at in the whole world. ‘Oh, I managed to get a corner booth – I know you like those, Jiraiya!’

‘Thanks,’ Jiraiya said stiffly. The _really_ frustrating thing about Dan Kato was that he was too nice to dislike. As much as Jiraiya bewailed the fact that Dan seemed to be the only person capable of sweeping Tsunade off her feet, he was too much of a decent person to actually begrudge. Under different circumstances, Jiraiya thought they would have been friends independent of Tsunade.

‘It’s just Akari we’re waiting for now,’ Tsunade said. ‘Do you want to go in, Dan? I’m sure Jiraiya doesn’t mind waiting out for her.’

‘Oh! I mean – is that alright with you?’ Dan said, glancing at Jiraiya.

‘I’m a big boy. I’m sure I can handle waiting by myself,’ Jiraiya replied.

Tsunade glowered at him for his tone, but Dan waved it off. ‘Right! We’ll see you in there – it’s the booth in the furthest right corner.’

Jiraiya grunted in reply, and adverted his eyes when Tsunade’s hand intertwined with Dan’s as they headed through the door.

Tsunade let out a long breath when they went inside. The place was comfortingly familiar – in all the years she had been going there, usually at Jiraiya’s behest, it hadn’t changed a bit. It had the same smell of smoke and food and charcoal, the same flattened cushions, the same pictures on the walls. The guy who ran the place seemed the same, too. He always had a smile for them and hadn’t aged a day. If Tsunade didn’t know better, she would say that Konoha’s little barbecue place had frozen in time, caught in a moment of stasis when she was young and carefree. It was odd, then, that Orochimaru wasn’t with them. They had invited him along, but he looked so disgusted at the prospect of being the only singleton on their so-called ‘double-date’, that Tsunade was reluctant to ever offer again. The boys had met Dan only about once, so it was a significant evening for her. She made a mental note to trap Orochimaru where he could suss out Dan appropriately.

Still, not having Jiraiya and Orochimaru either side of her felt weird. Ever since their first trip, when Benjiro had taken the three of them, she hadn’t set foot inside without them. It was the backdrop to many of her memories – Benjiro’s treat; spending Jiraiya’s birthday coupons from Orochimaru; the last meal they shared before they started their own journeys (Jiraiya and Senjutsu, Orochimaru and the ANBU, and she and her medical training); when the boys had taken her there to cheer her up after Komako’s death; and many more times she couldn’t count. The place was special to them. She wondered, for a moment, if having Dan and Akari there would warp her perception of it.

‘You okay?’ Dan asked, his hand tightening around hers.

‘Huh?’

‘You were sort of spacey just then,’ he said.

Tsunade smiled guiltily, averting her eyes. ‘No, it’s fine. Really.’ _Yeah. It is fine. Times change, and there’s no one I’d rather share this place with than Dan._

Dan smiled back at her, shaking his head.

‘What?’ she said.

‘Just…you’re a very hard person to read, Tsunade,’ he said. ‘Which isn’t a bad thing! It’s just curious is all. I’m never certain about what you’re thinking, and I’m usually pretty good at figuring out what’s going on in someone’s mind.’

‘Is this when you tell me you have some sort of mind reading jutsu?’ Tsunade smirked.

‘Goodness, no,’ Dan chuckled. ‘Let’s leave that to the Yamanaka Clan, shall we?’

‘I’m honestly fine, Dan,’ Tsunade said, as they settled into the booth. ‘Just thinking. I’ve been coming here since I was little, so I have a lot of memories, I guess.’

‘Happy ones, I hope?’ he smiled.

Tsunade looked at him across the table. ‘For the most part, yes. There was one time when my father gate-crashed and sort of ruined the moment, but -’ Tsunade caught herself at the last moment, closing her mouth abruptly. She hadn’t explained her complicated relationship with Taichi to Dan, yet. To discuss such things meant opening old wounds as well as talking about her mother and Nawaki. She wasn’t sure if she wanted Dan to see that vulnerable part of herself. At least not yet. 

She felt Dan’s foot nudge hers under the table. She glanced up and found his kind eyes gazing at her encouragingly.

‘Well, let’s say we make some more happy ones, eh?’ he said gently, his voice low and careful, like he was worried he’d scare her off.

Tsunade let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. ‘I’d like that.’

Akari was slightly late, and was feeling nervous. She had never met Dan before, and in truth, she disliked spending time with Tsunade and Jiraiya. For obvious reasons. Regardless, she offered them a smile as she entered, her arm wrapped around Jiraiya’s, and heartily shook Dan by the hand.

‘Well, this is nice!’ she said, hoping that saying it aloud would make it so.

‘Sure is,’ Jiraiya said, his smile strained. ‘You two ordered anything yet?’

‘Tsu has the sake handled,’ Dan said. ‘Ordered a whole tray!’

Jiraiya, who was sat next to Tsunade and opposite Dan and Akari, side-eyed her.

‘That a good idea? Don’t you have work tomorrow?’ he muttered.

‘Lay off, spoil-sport,’ Tsunade pouted. ‘I’m allowed to let loose now and again. Besides, I think I’m gonna need it.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that whenever you and Akari spend more than an hour together, you inevitably end up having a domestic.’

Jiraiya slumped back and folded his arms, glowering at Tsunade reproachfully. ‘Well, I’m sorry that not all of us can be as saccharine as you and Dan.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ Tsunade hissed under her breath. ‘Maybe if you _were_ , Akari would actually enjoy spending time with you.’

‘What was that?’ Akari said, looking up at them.

‘Nothing!’ Jiraiya said tightly. ‘I was just warning Tsunade here about her drinking habits, is all. Don’t want a repeat of the usual.’

‘The usual?’ Dan piped up, quirking an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean by that?’

Unsarcastically cruelly, Jiraiya smirked. ‘What, you don’t know about that? Sake was Tsunade’s first love. Doubt anything – or anyone – can replace it.’

‘ _Jiraiya_ ,’ Tsunade scowled.

‘What?’ Jiraiya shrugged. ‘I’m just telling him how it is. Nothing can come between you and a bottle of sake.’

Tsunade swallowed thickly, caught half-way between anger at Jiraiya and trepidation about Dan’s reaction. They’d been sat down for less than five minutes and already the event was becoming gauche.

Dan narrowed his eyes at Jiraiya, but didn’t take the bait. ‘Well, if that’s the case, it’s a good thing I’m a bit of a connoisseur myself.’

‘Huh?’ Tsunade spluttered.

‘Yeah,’ Dan grinned. ‘Well, I say that, but it’s really my older sister, Haia. She owns a sake brewery – grows all the rice and everything, too, so I know a fair bit about it just from exposure!’

‘Wow, that’s pretty cool,’ Akari said, her eyes shining. ‘Are you not from a Shinobi family, then?’

‘No, I am,’ Dan said. ‘Haia married into this whole sake business thing – you know, I think she supplies Kiyoko Hatake’s chain of inns – but she used to be a Chuunin.’

‘What made her retire?’ Jiraiya frowned.

‘Er,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘She got a bit disillusioned after our kid sister passed away. Lost interest in the cause, I think. Anyway, the Shinobi life was never really for her. She’s much happier working in the brewery. You know, she didn’t really want her daughter getting interested in the Shinobi life either, but once that little tyke has set her mind to something, there’s no stopping her! She’s already playing around with rubber shuriken.’

‘That’s true,’ Tsunade smiled, thinking of Dan’s four-year-old niece, Shizune. She had met the girl only a few weeks ago, but according to Dan, Shizune had spoken of little else, normally revolving around the fact that _‘she has such pretty hair! I wanna play with it!’_.

‘You got a big family like Tsunade, then?’ Akari asked, apparently playing a game of Twenty Questions. But Tsunade was quite grateful – Akari’s sunny interest was doing a fine job of drowning out Jiraiya’s thunderous expression.

‘Sort of,’ Dan nodded. ‘I mean, I’ve pretty much become part of the furniture at Haia’s place – she likes to keep us close, since my sister’s passing, so I live on their estate with them.’

‘That must be nice!’ Akari sighed. ‘I’d love a big family, but it’s just me and my mum these days. But better to have a small family than lose a lot of it, right?’

If Dan felt uncomfortable about Akari’s tactless sentiment, he didn’t show it. He exchanged a small look with Tsunade, who shrugged, and smiled pleasantly at Akari. ‘Well, that all depends on the family. I count my blessings when I can, and I’d rather have known my little sister than not at all, you know?’

‘Oh, for sure!’ Akari said, folding her hands under her chin and batting her eyelashes. ‘That’s really wise of you, Dan.’

Tsunade frowned at her. Was she trying to flirt with him? In front of her _and_ her own boyfriend? Speaking of which, if Jiraiya had noticed Akari’s doe eyes, he didn’t seem to care. He was far too busy glaring at Dan, studying him as if he was to be the target on his next mission.

‘So you’d say you’re a family man?’ he said coolly, before Akari could pipe up again.

‘Er, I guess?’ Dan said, scratching his head. ‘I mean, I’d do anything for my family, as I’m sure you would.’

Jiraiya leaned back in his seat, setting Dan with a seedy glare. ‘Of course I would. I’m not a monster.’

‘Oh! Gosh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t implying that you’d do anything less than your best for your loved ones,’ Dan said hurriedly.

‘I’m sure you weren’t,’ Jiraiya said airily. ‘But you know, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. After all, it sort of looks like I’m letting my old man waste away without any intervention, right?’

‘U-um,’ Dan gulped, looking at Tsunade for help. ‘I mean, I was aware that he was ill…but for confidentiality reasons, Tsu and I don’t discuss things like that.’

‘You don’t?’ Jiraiya said, his eyebrows raised. ‘Wow. I’m surprised. You two are so close – so quickly, I might add – that I figured she’d tell you everything. Moving pretty fast, don’t you think?’ 

‘Not at all,’ Dan said, an atypical edge to his tone. ‘Tsunade and I share things as appropriate, and I’m sure she felt like she’d be encroaching on your private affairs if she discussed your father with me.’

‘Surprising, since she’s told me everything about you.’

‘Ah, the sake is here!’ Tsunade said, grabbing the tray the waiter had delivered like it was a life boat in a stormy sea. ‘Who wants some?’

As she went about pouring them all a glass, feeling increasingly anxious about Jiraiya’s behaviour, she leaned in and hissed in her teammate’s ear.

‘Jiraiya, will you pack it in?’ she whispered angrily.

‘What?’ he said. ‘I’m just making conversation.’

‘You’re not acting like yourself,’ she muttered. ‘What is your problem?’

‘I don’t have a problem. I’m just trying to make sure your so-called boyfriend isn’t some sort of creep, that’s all,’ Jiraiya shrugged.

A vein popped in Tsunade’s temple as she tried to bite back a scathing retort. ‘I am perfectly capable of sussing out if someone is a creep or not, thank you very much, and I don’t need you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.’

‘Well excuse me for looking out for you,’ Jiraiya said.

‘I don’t need you to!’

‘I think otherwise,’ Jiraiya pouted. ‘He’s definitely up to something nefarious. No offence, Tsu, but you’re not the easiest person to get along with. There’s no way he likes you so quickly.’

Sighing angrily, Tsunade snatched up and glass and downed it on one.

‘Damn,’ Dan said, evidently impressed.

‘Pass me the bottle,’ she said to Akari, who was examining the label.

‘Oh, sure,’ she said, passing it over. ‘I was just trying to see if it came from Dan’s brewery! What was it called?’

‘I mean, it’s technically not mine,’ Dan said, eyeing Tsunade as she poured another large glass. ‘But it’s named after Haia’s husband’s family – Goshiki Sake.’

‘Well I hope it isn’t,’ Tsunade said, grimacing, ‘because it tastes mediocre at best.’

‘You mean you actually tasted it? I thought it went down without touching the sides,’ Dan chuckled, and Tsunade smiled bashfully. 

‘Ooh, do we have our drinking trousers on tonight then?’ Akari said eagerly. 

‘I’m not a heavy drinker myself, but you guys go ahead,’ Dan said.

Jiraiya muttered something under his breath.

‘What?’ Dan said, confused.

‘I said that I’m not surprised,’ Jiraiya said.

‘Really?’ Akari squawked, not reading the room at all. ‘But Dan owns a brewery!’

‘No, the Goshiki’s do,’ Dan reiterated, doing a fine job of holding his patience. ‘But I don’t begrudge the stuff. I just don’t drink a lot of it, that’s all.’

‘And that’s _fine_ ,’ Tsunade said, trying to change the subject. ‘So, Akari, how are the war preparations going on? Sarutobi-sensei has you Chuunin running around gathering supplies, right?’

‘And then some,’ Akari sighed tiredly. ‘Honestly, I _know_ there’s a war going on – not that you’d notice, since everything seems normal in the Village – but he’s really running us ragged!’

‘Indeed,’ Dan nodded. ‘There’s an awful lot of preparation going on, but not much in the way of fighting.’

‘Tell that to the people who fought at Konoha’s First Strike,’ Jiraiya said.

‘I didn’t mean -’

‘ – no, of course he didn’t,’ Tsunade interjected, kicking Jiraiya under the table. ‘But to be honest, I am sort of relieved we haven’t been deployed to Amegakure yet. It means that things are going well for us, if Sarutobi-sensei isn’t mobilising all of our forces.’

‘Yeah, or he’s saving us for something big,’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘I hope it’s the former,’ Dan said grimly. ‘I know we were only kids, but the world suffered a lot thanks to the First Shinobi War. It would be preferrable if we didn’t have a repeat of such devastating bloodshed. Makes my stomach turn.’

‘There were heavy losses on both sides,’ Tsunade nodded.

‘That’s why we drink alcohol. To wash away the blues, huh?’ Akari said glumly, sipping from her glass. It was most unlike her to be melancholy, but it was to be expected – their youth had been shaped by war, and now, it appeared their 20s would be, too.

‘Or it’s hereditary,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I mean, Tsu probably inherited her taste for alcohol from her old man. Right?’

‘Ugh, don’t go there,’ Tsunade mumbled. ‘I don’t want to ruin our evening by talking about him.’

‘Oh?’ Dan said curiously, looking between Jiraiya and Tsunade with interest. Tsunade winced slightly – the last thing she wanted was to unpack all of that.

‘What, she hasn’t told you about him?’ Jiraiya said, crossing his arms. ‘But I thought you told each other everything?’

Dan raised his eyebrows at Tsunade, who was looking put out, and folded his hands on the table. ‘If something needs saying, I’m sure Tsu will say it when the time is right.’ 

‘Spoken like a true diplomat,’ Jiraiya said, sucking his teeth.

Dan’s fingers twitched ever so slightly in annoyance, but it was hardly perceptible. He knew that Jiraiya was important to Tsunade and was making a commendable effort to bridge the gap, but Jiraiya wasn’t making it easy for him.

‘This is Taichi Senju, yeah?’ Akari said anxiously. ‘Man, he gives me the creeps. How’d he get all those scars on his face, Tsunade?’

‘Before the First Shinobi War,’ Tsunade said grimly. ‘Actually, before I was even born. Happened on a mission, I think. Huh. Guess I never really saw his real face. Or the real him.’

Jiraiya felt a twinge of guilt in his gut for bringing up the subject in the first place.

‘Well,’ Akari said, ‘I guess it doesn’t matter. I mean, I think it’s obvious you got your looks from Lady Komako, right?’

Tsunade smiled weakly. ‘I guess so.’

‘Which is super lucky, by the way,’ Akari said. ‘Seriously, you hit the genetic jackpot with your looks _and_ your skills! Not like me.’ She trailed off, looking at Jiraiya for comment. He didn’t say anything, and Akari frowned to herself, suddenly feeling a little hurt. He had barely even looked at her for the whole evening – if he wasn’t ogling Tsunade, he was too busy scrutinising Dan. Sighing, she drank heavily from her glass, and held it up for a refill.

‘We might have to order some more at this rate,’ Dan grinned, pouring it for her when Jiraiya didn’t offer.

‘We should definitely order some food, at least. I am starving!’ Tsunade said.

Akari tried not to let it get to her. She really tried. But it was hard _not_ to notice how kind and attentive Dan was being towards Tsunade, and how uninterested Jiraiya was with her. Dan always made sure Tsunade’s glass was full, even when she begrudgingly switched to water, he always made sure she got her favourite cuts of meat, and he actually listened when she spoke. On the other hand, Jiraiya hardly said two words to Akari. When she nudged his foot under the table affectionately, he glared at like she’d just kicked him with steel-capped boots. When she reached over to offer him some grilled beef – his favourite – he completely ignored her and took to questioning Dan about his taste in food and then analysed his answers. Even when she offered to buy him another drink, he just shrugged and proceeded to make a snide remark about the fact that Dan hadn’t yet bought a round. 

By the end of the night, Akari was at the end of her tether.

*

Later, Dan and Tsunade waved Jiraiya and Akari off, before their hands slipped together.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Tsu,’ Dan began, looking a little anxious as he started to walk her home, ‘but did Jiraiya seem a bit…off to you?’

‘That’s one word for it,’ Tsunade muttered, her teeth gritted in anger. ‘Honestly, he’s lucky I didn’t sock him then and there. He was behaving like an absolute -’

‘- Tsu, you’re squeezing my hand pretty hard there,’ Dan said, interrupting the expletive with a wince. 

‘Sorry!’ she gasped, releasing him immediately.

‘No, it’s fine,’ he chuckled, taking her hand in his again. ‘I think it’s great how strong you are. Just a little warning next time, hm? So I can psych myself up and pretend it didn’t hurt like a bitch.’

Tsunade laughed, her other hand across her face in embarrassment. ‘I promise I’m working on it. My temper, I mean. It’s just that Jiraiya really knows how to piss me off.’

‘Ah, the qualms of growing up together, I guess,’ Dan smiled.

‘Yeah, plus I think he…’ Tsunade trailed off. She hadn’t forgotten the conversation she’d had with Benjiro back when she put Jiraiya in Hospital. _‘_ _My idiot son fell head over heels for you a long time ago, Tsunade. I doubt much could change what he feels for you.’_

‘He what?’ Dan asked.

‘Nothing,’ Tsunade said quickly. Telling Dan would only complicate things, and that was the last thing she needed. Being with Dan, in their own little world, far away from drama and unrest, was more important to her than she could say.

‘Well, I’m sure his scrutiny is only because he wants to make sure I’m good enough for you,’ Dan winked, nudging her affectionately.

‘Is that so?’ Tsunade smirked.

‘Of course!’ Dan said. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Tsunade, but you’re the Village’s sweetheart. I’m surprised there isn’t a queue to interrogate me, considering how much everyone cares about you.’

Tsunade giggled, shaking her head. ‘Honestly, if you’re going to worry about anyone, it’s my Grandmother. I hope you don’t have any skeletons in your closet, because she will absolutely expose them.’

‘That shouldn’t be a problem, then. The only thing I’m guilty of is falling head over heels for her granddaughter,’ Dan said.

Tsunade blushed, hiding her face in his shoulder. ‘In all seriousness, we probably should organise for the two of you to meet properly. And Oro, for that matter. He acts all cool and uninterested, but I reckon he’s itching to size you up.’

‘A double date with your Grandmother and other best friend? I wouldn’t miss it!’ Dan beamed.

‘You jest, but Oro and Grandmother get on really well,’ Tsunade smiled. ‘She gave him my bento box during the Academy’s Opening Ceremony, years ago, now. They hit it off right away because of that.’

‘She gave away your lunch?!’ Dan gasped, aghast.

‘She ran and grabbed me another one, don’t worry,’ Tsunade laughed. ‘But even then, it took a while for Oro to pluck up the courage and talk to me. The rest, as they say, is history.’

‘Is Orochimaru shy, then?’ Dan asked.

‘With people he doesn’t know, yeah,’ Tsunade nodded. ‘He keeps himself to himself a lot of the time, and he’s socially awkward as hell. But he’s a good person and a good friend to the people he’s bonded with.’

‘Wow, I just figured he was aloof,’ Dan said, rubbing the back of his head. ‘I mean, the guy is an absolute _genius_. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was too, you know, revered to actually hang out with the rest of us.’

‘Oh, Oro isn’t like that at all,’ Tsunade said. ‘He comes across as standoffish because he’s not very good at small talk, that’s all. But you’re right – he is a genius. He’s been that way since we were kids. Once in a generation prodigy, and all that.’ She said the last part rather bitterly.

‘Well then, I can’t wait to meet him properly,’ Dan said eagerly. ‘I just hope he isn’t as…scrupulous as Jiraiya. Not sure I can survive another cross-examination like that.’

‘He probably won’t say a thing unless forced,’ Tsunade smirked.

Dan glanced at her, smiling slightly. ‘You really love your friends, don’t you?’

Tsunade shuddered. ‘Is it that obvious? How embarrassing.’

‘It’s endearing,’ Dan said softly. ‘You’re lucky to have them, Tsu. Your teammates are incredibly important – and, for the record, if Touta and Noriko were around, they’d adore you.’

Tsunade stroked her fingers over his knuckles. ‘I hope so. I know you think I’m a catch and all that, but you know…I think I’m the lucky one.’ She paused, stretched up, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘What’s brought all this on, eh?’ Dan grinned, tracing his fingertips over his cheek. ‘You’re not usually so affectionate.’

‘Shut up and be grateful,’ Tsunade pouted.

‘I am,’ Dan smiled. ‘Believe me.’

Tsunade rolled her eyes, tugging him along the street. She wasn’t very good at showing Dan that she liked him. She’d never been in a proper relationship before and therefore found things a bit awkward. She’d never gone on dates or held someone’s hand. It didn’t help that Dan was all about being tactile and liked to show his fondness of her, but he was respectfully aware that she wasn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affections. He waited for her to take his hand before he took hers, and even when he felt like he wanted to kiss her – which was quite the frequent occurrence – he waited until they were alone. For Tsunade to outwardly show her fondness towards him spoke volumes of how comfortable she was growing with him. It made his heart swell with happiness.

‘Tsunade,’ Dan said, pulling her back, ‘wait a second.’

‘What?’

‘I know it’s cold, but you’re walking so quickly that you’re missing the view,’ Dan said.

‘Dan, I’ve lived here all my life,’ Tsunade replied impatiently. ‘There’s nothing I haven’t seen.’

‘Humour me for a moment,’ he smiled.

Looking at him curiously, Tsunade slowed to a halt. They were walking along the path by the river side, near the grassy banks where she, Jiraiya and Orochimaru had spent many lazy afternoons stretched out in the sun. The sun had long since departed, and the lanterns lining the river were lit and glowed pleasantly against the inky black of the water.

‘You know,’ Dan said softly, as he paused to admire the view, ‘this time of night is my favourite. Everyone is starting to settle in for sleep, the light is dying, and the lanterns are lit to ward off the dark. It’s sort of peaceful, don’t you think?’

‘I’ve never really thought about it before,’ Tsunade admitted.

‘Figures,’ Dan said. ‘You have a sense of urgent energy about you, you know that? It’s not a bad thing at all, since you’re always getting things done – but sometimes, it’s nice to just…take your time and enjoy the view. Especially one so beautiful.’

Smiling, he gestured over to the river. Looking slightly sceptical, Tsunade joined him and looked out. To Dan’s credit, he did have a point – the yellow light was swirling like a kaleidoscope of golden butterflies fluttering just above the surface of the water, glowing against the ripples with every beat of their wings. The night was quiet; the sound of the water gently lapping against the banks every so often and the distant calls of villagers bidding each other goodnight echoed in the space, caught along a thread of breeze that rustled through Tsunade’s hair. She went to move it out of her face, but Dan did it for her, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She caught his hand and held it to her cheek, her eyes shining in the light.

‘You’re right,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a beautiful view.’

‘I think the company helps,’ Dan said, only half-joking. ‘I mean, I don’t know about you, but the world seems a little brighter when you have someone you care about by your side.’

Tsunade nodded contently in agreement. Since she had started dating Dan, her heart felt lighter, and the Village, ordinary though it was, suddenly felt like the only place in the world she wanted to be. After Nawaki had died, every shadow down every street held a darkness that she thought might drown her. The paths she had walked down with him, the shops they had been to, the Mansion where they grew up, and the park she used to take him to, they all seemed unfamiliar and threatening. It was like the Village itself was trying to throw her out. And while much of the work to recover had been her own, when she was stood with Dan, looking over the river in a companionable silence, a sense of complete peace ballooned in her heart. She didn’t think it could do that anymore.

‘Dan…’ she murmured, putting her arm around his waist and leaning into him.

‘Yeah?’ he replied, returning her embrace with a steady arm around her shoulders and a small, sincere smile on his lips.

‘I…I’m really glad I met you.’

*

‘Well, that was…interesting,’ Akari said, reaching for Jiraiya’s hand as they headed from the restaurant. He kept his fist balled at his side and grunted noncommittedly in response. Akari pressed her lips together, her eyes glued to the ground.

‘I mean, Dan seems really lovely!’ she continued, trying to make conversation with her stoic boyfriend. ‘He clearly worships the ground Tsunade walks on, and that’s good. She deserves some happiness, don’t you think?’

‘Dan isn’t _that_ great,’ Jiraiya muttered, jamming his closed fists into his pockets.

‘Really?’ Akari said. ‘I think he’s perfect for her. And I think he did a great job tonight, especially with the way you were behaving. I’m surprised he didn’t lose his rag with you.’

Jiraiya’s jaw twitched. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that you were acting like a boor,’ Akari said, her voice tight. ‘Seriously, Jiraiya, you grilled him more than the meat.’

‘I just want to make sure he’s not bad news, that’s all,’ he snapped. ‘I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? He was Komako’s student! He’s probably been creeping on Tsunade for years, just waiting for her to let her guard down so he can swoop in.’

‘Oh, give me a break,’ Akari snorted. ‘Dan is as far away from bad news as you can get. And you know as well as I that Tsunade isn’t so stupid as to let him take advantage of her. Hell, if that was his plan, why’d it take him so long to introduce himself, huh? Actually, he didn’t even approach her, right? _She_ instigated the whole thing!’

‘Yeah, so she says,’ Jiraiya muttered.

‘What, you don’t believe her?’ Akari said.

‘No, I just – I just think it’s suspicious, alright?’ Jiraiya said. ‘He popped up out of the blue and bloody swept her off her feet. Real life doesn’t work like that, so he’s gotta be up to something. Maybe he wants in on her massive inheritance?’

‘Did you not listen to a single thing he said?’ Akari scowled, rolling her eyes. ‘His family married into the only brewery in Konoha. I’m pretty sure they’re not strapped for cash!’

‘Look, I’m allowed to have my doubts about the guy,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Tsunade is a very important part of my life, and I – I don’t want to see her get hurt. Not again. What’s wrong with that?’

‘What’s wrong is that one, she can make her own judgements without your unwarranted interference,’ Akari huffed. ‘And two, she clearly wants you to get along! You’re an important part of her life too, obviously, and she probably just wants her best friend and her partner to hit it off, not lock horns.’ 

‘I don’t wanna get all pally with a guy she’s only known for a few months,’ Jiraiya said stiffly. ‘It probably won’t last anyway.’

‘God, you’re impossible!’ Akari exclaimed, throwing her arms out. ‘Can’t you see that this is what Tsunade _wants_? She likes the guy? And good on her!’

‘You don’t know Tsu like I do, Akari,’ Jiraiya said, stopping in the street. ‘You don’t know that she’s impulsive, and hot-headed, and that she doesn’t do things by halves. This… _whatever_ with Dan, it’s just her rushing into it because she doesn’t think things through and she’s desperate for some happiness.’

Akari shook her head, looking incredulous. ‘No, Jiraiya, that’s _you_. I don’t know if you’ve noticed recently, but Tsunade is more self-assured than ever. Why shouldn’t she dive in headfirst with Dan, if she likes him? There’s nothing wrong with that. She should have a shot at happiness considering everything she’s been through.’

‘Why are you defending her?’ Jiraiya said. ‘Last time I checked, you though she was a stuck-up Princess with an attitude problem.’

‘Because, unlike _you_ , she’s actually been trying to recognise and appreciate my feelings!’ Akari cried.

Jiraiya blinked at her, cringing slightly when a few curious villagers looked in their direction at her raised voice.

‘What are you talking about?’ he mumbled, frowning at her.

Akari gritted her teeth together. ‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe because she extended the olive branch to me? Because she tried to make be feel better about being so _useless_? Because she took the time out of her schedule to actually talk to me?’

‘Huh?’

‘You really have no idea how I feel, do you?’ Akari stuttered, her eyes wide with realisation.

Guilt flared up Jiraiya’s throat and burned in his mouth with the sake he’d had. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached for her, but Akari held up a hand firmly.

‘No,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.’

‘Akari…’ Jiraiya murmured.

‘Let me talk!’ she said, not caring about how loud her voice was, nor how much attention they might attract. ‘Jiraiya, I know you’re under a lot of pressure at the moment – if it’s not your dad, it’s your duties as a Shinobi, and if it’s not that, it’s this stupid Prophecy thing -’

‘ – it’s not stupid, it’s very serious,’ Jiraiya piped up weakly.

‘I don’t care about that right now!’ Akari snapped. ‘I just…Jiraiya, after you saved Hiro and Fumi from the Inoshishi, I idolised you. It was a stupid crush, but you seemed so brave and you were always so _kind_ , no matter how many times people picked on you or put you down. I admired that! I still do. I…’ she trailed off, biting her lip.

‘What?’ Jiraiya said, his heart hammering in his chest.

‘I loved you,’ Akari whispered. ‘But you knew that, didn’t you? The moment you came back from that mission, and I ran into you when the three of you were getting tea, you must have figured it out from the way I looked at you. You knew from the start.’

‘Akari, we were only 15,’ Jiraiya spluttered. ‘You couldn’t have loved me way back then, not really.’

‘Well maybe not,’ Akari swallowed. ‘But I sure felt something. And I thought, hey, once his little crush on the Princess has worn off, maybe he’ll look my way! And you…when you sauntered back to the Village after your travels, all grown up and looking so confident and handsome, I thought it was my time. _Our_ time.’

Jiraiya said nothing, his lips pressed together tightly.

‘And, God, I was so _happy_ ,’ Akari said, shaking her head. ‘When we went to Ichiraku and you spoke all about your travels, and complained that Tsunade hadn’t replied to your letters, I thought…well, more fool me, really. I should have known when you kissed me that your heart was never really in it.’

‘Akari, that’s not true,’ Jiraiya said, reaching forward and grabbing her hand. ‘When I came back, everything had fallen apart. Pa told me how ill he was, and Tsu and Oro were at odds, and it…it felt like it was all going wrong, you know? And there you were. You seemed so genuinely happy to spend time with me, to listen to me, to… _love_ me, that I…’ Jiraiya trailed off, a lump in his throat.

‘That isn’t love,’ Akari choked. ‘That’s circumstantial. You needed someone to tend to your wounds while you fixed everyone else’s problems. That’s all I was to you, right? Just someone to mend _you_ while you worked on mending everyone else.’

‘No, no,’ Jiraiya said firmly. ‘That’s not how I see you at all. Yeah, you might have been a support mechanism those first few months, but after that, I started to really care about you, Akari. I _do_ care about you. Your optimism, your kindness…you’re important to me, Akari, and I mean that. Truly.’

Tears shone in Akari’s eyes, but she didn’t crumble. ‘You can care about someone without being in love with them, though.’

Words stuck in Jiraiya’s throat.

Everything he’d done came crashing down around his ears like a bucket of cold water. How embarrassed he’d been when Tsunade had spotted them on that first date. How vehemently he’d denied to Orochimaru that they were actually a couple. How he snapped at her when she was trying to help with Benjiro. How many dates he’d cancelled because he couldn’t face her. How much he’d strung her along. And how he’d titled his head back, looked at the stars, and allowed tears to streak down his face when he realised who his heart had belonged to all along.

‘I think I’ve always known that we were a ticking time bomb, you and I,’ Akari sniffed. ‘But tonight has just confirmed it. You’re not suspicious of Dan because you’re looking out for Tsunade. You’re suspicious because you’re jealous. Because you love her, and you probably always will.’

‘I…’

‘You don’t need to deny it,’ Akari said, her voice full of hurt. ‘I’m not an idiot, contrary to popular belief. You can barely keep your eyes off her, Jiraiya.’

_I’m sorry_ didn’t seem like enough. Not nearly enough for the years they’d spent together, bumbling along and playing at love. 

‘And to tell you the truth,’ Akari said, lowering her eyes, ‘I can’t even blame you. I’m so exhausted that I don’t even have the energy to feel bitter about it anymore.’

Exhausted. What he’d done had exhausted her.

‘But Jiraiya, you should know,’ she continued, her voice catching, ‘that I don’t begrudge it. Any of it. You’re going to get hurt though, if you keep loving her like this. You’re going to lose out on people who would love you back. People like me.’

Jiraiya felt his throat constrict with grief when Akari pulled her hand from his grip. ‘Akari, are you…are you ending this?’

Lower lip trembling, eyes sparkling, and shoulders shaking, Akari Sato pulled the thorn and did what was best for her. ‘I am. And I’m sorry…I’m sorry that you’re stuck loving her, when you could be loving me.’

Jiraiya watched her go and didn’t even try to protest. He felt so ashamed that he just wanted to curl up into a ball and lament his decisions. _I didn’t mean for it to go so far, for so long. I can’t help it._ The hardest thing for him was, ultimately, the fact that a part of him did love Akari the way she loved him. He loved that she saw the best in him.

‘Akari…’ he whispered, watching her figure as she walked away, not looking back at him. ‘I hope you find the real thing.’

*

‘Is he alright?!’

After a sleepless night, Jiraiya found himself thundering down the Hospital corridor to the wing Benjiro was staying in, his heart in his mouth. Biwako, heavily pregnant, caught him before he could go bursting into Benjiro’s room.

‘Easy, Jiraiya,’ she soothed, her hands settling on his broad shoulders.

‘Easy?!’ Jiraiya spluttered. ‘That Shinobi you sent to summon me made it sound like an emergency! I got here as quickly as I could!’

Biwako looked crestfallen, her eyes low and sad. ‘Well, that’s because it is an emergency. But going in there, all guns blazing, won’t help anything, least of all your father.’

Jiraiya felt sick. Biwako’s stern but reassuring tone was making his head spin. He just wanted someone to say _something_ concrete. Since the Shinobi had turned up early in the morning, banging his fist on the door, Jiraiya’s head was muddled. _‘You need to come quickly. Your father has taken a turn of the worse.’_

And he did get there quickly – he ran out from the house so fast he barely registered that he was still wearing his slippers and pyjamas. Gently, Biwako led him over to one of the chairs on the ward, just outside his father’s room.

‘Tsunade is in with him now,’ she said, her tone as soft and kind as it had been when he’d met her for the first time. ‘You just sit tight while we wait for more news, okay?’

‘But Tsunade was out late last night!’ Jiraiya said, panicked. ‘What if she’s not on her best form? What if she needs help in there?’

‘She’s just fine, Jiraiya,’ Biwako soothed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his arm. ‘Your father is in the best hands – even better than my own. But is there anyone I can summon for you, dear? Someone to sit with you?’

‘Can’t you?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘I’m still on duty,’ Biwako said. ‘Tsunade asked me to greet you, to give you some answers and to stop you bursting through the door, but I do need to get back.’

Jiraiya’s eyes settled on his enormous belly, and she laughed as she watched his bewildered expression.

‘It’s still a couple of weeks before the due date,’ she said, rubbing her stomach. ‘I can still get some jobs done – though not as quickly as I once did, perhaps. Anyway, as for you, dear, did you want someone here with you while you wait, or not?’

Jiraiya looked at his hands, hating how his mind flickered to Akari. He shook his head, trying to focus. ‘Um…actually, he’s probably busy. Don’t worry about it.’

Biwako patted his shoulder knowingly. ‘I’ll see if Orochimaru is available. In the meantime, you should know…’

Jiraiya felt numb as Biwako explained what was going on. The previous night, when he had been out with Tsunade and the others, Benjiro had mildly complained of a pain in his back from the growing tumour. The medical professionals had tended to him, but early that morning, at about 6am, he had started to slip in and out of consciousness.

The minutes ticked by agonisingly as Jiraiya waited for more news. He knotted his fingers together, swallowing a lump in his throat. A part of him was angry at himself – he had been hoping to talk to his father about Akari and everything that had transpired, to get some advice. But it all seemed so trivial now. He knew Benjiro would succumb to his illness eventually, and really, he defied the odds by lasting as long as he had. And yet, until it happened, Jiraiya never really thought it would.

‘Jiraiya.’

He glanced up and found Orochimaru walking down the corridor to greet him. He was looking paler than normal, still in his Shinobi gear, with an uncharacteristic look of concern on his face.

‘Hey, Oro,’ Jiraiya said weakly. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Orochimaru said, sitting down next to him. ‘As if I’d be anywhere else.’

Jiraiya managed a smile and ran a hand through his messy hair.

‘Are you…alright?’ Orochimaru asked tentatively. He had never been much good at comforting people, even his best friends. That was more Jiraiya’s area.

‘I…don’t know,’ Jiraiya admitted. ‘Seems silly, doesn’t it? I’ve had ages to prepare for this, to process it, but I still…’ he trailed off, his voice wavering.

‘No one expects you to be ready for this,’ Orochimaru murmured.

‘I feel like I should be, though,’ Jiraiya replied. ‘And I know, in a morbid way, that this is what’s best for him. He’s so sick, Oro. He hates being cooped up in here, not able to do things for himself. I know he’s just…waiting for the inevitable.’

Orochimaru reached over and took Jiraiya’s hand. _This is what people do when they want to comfort someone, right?_ ‘Knowing the inevitable doesn’t make it any easier for those left behind.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jiraiya sniffed.

‘I mean that everyone knows that everyone dies,’ Orochimaru said quietly, his eyes glued to the white floor. ‘It is one of life’s few certainties. And yet, knowing that certainty, we still forge relationships and live as well as we can. We know the moment we greet someone, that we will eventually share a farewell. But that doesn’t stop us, does it? And it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier, either. Knowing doesn’t mean acceptance, Jiraiya, and it doesn’t mean that you should process this without feeling pain. Even with all the time in the world to understand it, losing your father will always hurt.’

‘Blimey,’ Jiraiya swallowed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘You rehearse that before you came?’

‘I might as well have,’ Orochimaru said. ‘I have a feeling we’ll be having this conversation many times over. You always were a bit thick-headed.’

‘Hey,’ Jiraiya said, nudging him. ‘Aren’t you meant to be comforting me, not insulting me?’

‘Force of habit,’ Orochimaru shrugged.

The two of them sat in silence. At some point, Jiraiya, weary from grief, rested his heavy head on Orochimaru’s shoulder. The latter sat ramrod straight, straining to keep his posture so as not to disturb his teammate. Being shorter than Jiraiya made it a bit difficult, and even though his back twinged in discomfort, Orochimaru didn’t move at all. He wanted to support Jiraiya, and it wasn’t often that Jiraiya put himself in such a position of vulnerability in order to seek out such comfort. After a while, Jiraiya stirred, and cricked his neck.

‘They’ve been ages,’ he said.

‘That could mean anything,’ Orochimaru said reassuringly. ‘Is Tsunade in with him?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then she is likely just being thorough,’ Orochimaru said, trying to placate him.

‘I know, I know. It’s just frying my nerves,’ Jiraiya sighed, rubbing his face with his hands tiredly.

Orochimaru frowned, trying to think of a way to distract him and take his mind off the growing sense of dread. ‘So…how was your evening? Tsunade mentioned that you and Akari joined her and Dan on a date.’

Jiraiya let out a short, humourless laugh. ‘Oh, that? One of the worse nights I’ve had in a while, to tell you the truth. I acted like an idiot and Akari ended things.’

Orochimaru’s brain took a moment to process the news, feeling caught half-way between sadness for Jiraiya, but happiness for himself. If Jiraiya was no longer in a relationship, it opened up a potential door. If he was brave enough to actually say anything, that is.

‘I…see,’ he managed.

‘Yep,’ Jiraiya snorted. ‘Tsunade is _pissed_ and I made Akari feel like the most worthless woman on the planet. I really messed up.’

_How on earth did he manage to annoy both of them in one hit? It’s sort of impressive_ , Orochimaru thought to himself. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Jiraiya. I admit, I was surprised that Akari wasn’t here, but I assumed there was a less depressing explanation.’

Jiraiya groaned, feeling utterly defeated. ‘I wish there was. I wish I…oh, what am I saying? I knew Akari and I were never going to work out. But I thought that maybe if I tried hard enough, I could love her the way she deserved. Guess I’m just a screw-up, huh? I mean, I can’t even help my old man.’

‘Don’t say that, Jiraiya,’ Orochimaru said sternly. ‘You can’t blame yourself for all that has transpired, any more than the next person.’

‘Funny,’ Jiraiya said. ‘I’m pretty sure I said something similar to you, once.’

Despite the sombre mood, Orochimaru smiled. Jiraiya had spoken him down many times when he grew more and more convinced that Nawaki’s demise was his fault. It was odd, how he was learning from Jiraiya when he thought he knew everything.

Lunchtime had been and gone by the time Tsunade emerged from the room. All she wanted to do was slump down against the wall and bury her face in her knees out of exhaustion, but Jiraiya had stood up the moment she opened the door, his face anxious.

‘Hey guys,’ Tsunade said, wiping the front of her scrubs.

‘Tsunade!’ Jiraiya exclaimed. ‘Is he alright? What happened in there? Is that blood?!’

He gestured at the red stains on her gloves, and she quickly peeled them off, pressing her lips together. ‘That’s nothing major to worry about – we just had to take some pressure off his spinal cord to make him more comfortable. But Jiraiya, he…there isn’t a lot more we can do for him.’

The words turned his blood cold. ‘What?’

Tsunade looked genuinely pained, but she was used to giving bad news. ‘We tried everything. He’s come around now, regained consciousness, but he isn’t going to last the night. All we can do now is make him as comfortable as possible while we begin palliative care.’

Orochimaru closed his eyes, feeling a lump swim up his throat. Benjiro had always been so good to him, to all of them – he always let him stay at the house, no matter the time, he never questioned him about his parentage or looked at him differently for being an orphan, and he treated him with respect even when he was a little kid. Benjiro was a good man. He didn’t deserve the end he was dealt.

‘But…what about that operation?’ Jiraiya said. ‘That one you said had a 10% success rate. The one only you can do. Can’t we – can’t we try that? I mean, if he’s going to…’ Jiraiya trailed off, unable to say it, ‘…then we might as well do it, right?’

Tsunade shook her head, lowering her eyes. ‘Jiraiya, that was a while ago. That was before the illness developed. If I tried to do it now, it would kill him. He’s too weak to survive going under anaesthetic or to endure the haemostasis jutsu. That 10% has gone down to 0%. I’m sorry. I really am.’

Jiraiya’s feet nearly gave out from under him, but the steady hand on his arm kept him from falling. He looked at Orochimaru, whose jaw was set in anguish, and lent into his support.

‘This can’t be right,’ Jiraiya said, his voice raising. ‘You can heal anyone! You – you knew how to heal him from the start, but you didn’t want to!’

‘What I _want_ has nothing to do with it,’ Tsunade said, swallowing thickly. ‘You know as well as I that Benjiro refused the treatment.’

‘And you didn’t even bother to convince him otherwise!’ Jiraiya shouted, his words reverberating around the corridor. ‘You were meant to help him, not let him just fade away!’

‘Jiraiya, enough,’ Orochimaru said, gripping his arm, noting Tsunade’s hurt expression. ‘Calm down before you say something you regret.’

‘Oro is right,’ Tsunade said, balling the bloodied gloves in her fist. ‘You shouldn’t be wasting time with us out here – go and be with your father.’

Jiraiya didn’t need telling twice. He brushed passed the two of them, his heart hammering, and flew into the room. Orochimaru and Tsunade watched him go, wearing twin expressions of sadness. Wordlessly, Tsunade shrugged off her scrubs and bundled them in her arms, not wanting to wear garments stained with blood.

‘Let me dispose of those,’ Orochimaru said, gently unburdening her. ‘I’m sure you need to sort some things out for his…end of life care.’

‘Thank you, Orochimaru,’ Tsunade said sincerely. ‘I’m really glad you’re here. Jiraiya is going to need the both of us if he’s going to get through this.’

Clenching his fists in grief, Orochimaru looked over to the closed door. ‘Yes. I think you’re right.’

*

The man slumped in the hospital bed looked so unlike his father, that for one moment, Jiraiya thought he’d got the wrong room. The stiff, acid-green hospital gown looked too big on him, though once upon a time, he filled it with ease. His skin was sallow, papery, so fragile that in the wrong light, his blue, cobwebbed veins were painfully visible. His white hair, once thick and long like his son’s, had thinned, the ends falling soft and broken over his gaunt face. The dark eyes Jiraiya knew so well had sunken into his face, like a piece of fruit rotting to the core, and his cheekbones looked so sharp and apparent, it was as if they were about to tear through his skin. His hands, calloused from years of the Shinobi life, were resting above the scratchy sheets, nails yellowed, fingers cadaverous, and knuckles red-raw with dried skin. 

‘Jiraiya,’ he croaked. Even his voice had changed, torn at the edges from sickness and fatigue. It was weak and far-off, like he was talking behind the blurred barrier between life and death, hanging over the precipice of this world and the next.

Jiraiya tore his eyes up to look properly at his father’s face, but he was afraid. He looked so unlike himself, so lost, so tired. His eyes scared him. He was so thin, he could see the outline of his skull. But when he finally pulled himself together to look at him, _really_ look at him, a warmth flickered in his heart. Because despite everything, his smile was the same. That never changed.

‘Pa,’ Jiraiya said, his voice thick as he collapsed in the seat next to the bed.

‘It’s not…looking…great, is it?’ Benjiro managed, every word an effort, every breath in his lungs heavy and ragged. ‘You’ll…forgive me…for not getting up.’

Despite himself, Jiraiya laughed, but it was choked with sadness.

‘Tsunade…told me…’ Benjiro said, turning his head with great effort so he could see his son, ‘that I…might keep slipping…between sleep…so…’

‘Don’t worry about that, Pa,’ Jiraiya said, taking his hand. It was cold and aged. An old man’s hand. _When did that happen?_ ‘If you need to rest, you rest. I’ll be right here.’

‘I’ll have…forever…to rest…’ Benjiro croaked. ‘But only…a few hours more…with my son.’

‘You really think you’ll be resting when you’re up there?’ Jiraiya said, his eyes hot with tears. ‘Pa, you and I both know that you have a lot of catching up to do with Ma. She’s been waiting for you to join her for years.’

Benjiro’s eyes briefly lit up, and for a moment, he looked how he once did in his youth. ‘Oh…Junko…will not be pleased that I…joined her so soon. Not when…our boy…still has some growing up to do.’

‘You kidding?’ Jiraiya choked. ‘I think I’ve grown up pretty good. I had a perfect role-model, after all.’

‘There’s always…room to grow…’ Benjiro rasped. ‘You could stop…being so pervy.’

Jiraiya snorted with laughter, and Benjiro chuckled too, though it was dry and weak and short-lived.

‘You have me there,’ Jiraiya said. ‘But some things never change.’

Benjiro opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes fluttered closed again, and he drifted off to sleep.

‘You better open you eyes soon, old man,’ Jiraiya murmured. ‘I’m not having your last words about being me being pervy.’

He sat a while with Benjiro, still clutching onto his hand. While it was cold and clammy, there was still an inkling of warmth, a comforting tether that let Jiraiya know he was still with him. At some point, Tsunade knocked softly on the door, and entered.

‘How’s he doing?’ she asked, her voice quiet.

‘Sleeping.’

Tsunade paused and listened to Benjiro’s breathing, and then nodded. ‘Don’t worry. His breathing is still regular. He’ll wake up again soon.’

‘How can you tell?’ Jiraiya asked.

‘When a person is near death, their breathing changes,’ Tsunade said. ‘There’s an end-of-life breathing pattern that occurs when the body prepares itself to shut down. His breathing will become less regular, heavier, and there may be periods when he isn’t breathing at all. But at the moment, he’s steady.’

Jiraiya grimaced. ‘When will his breathing change?’

‘I can’t say for certain,’ Tsunade said softly. ‘But I…I don’t think he’ll see another sunrise.’

Jiraiya looked at the clock hanging above the bed, ticking away like a macabre time-bomb. It was the early afternoon.

‘In it for the long haul, then,’ he said.

‘I’ll be here for as long as you need,’ Tsunade said. ‘Biwako has cleared my case-load for today, so…I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need anything.’

Jiraiya just nodded, sapped of energy. Tsunade bowed her head, glancing worriedly at Benjiro, before she ducked out of the door. Jiraiya let out a long breath when she left, his hand digging for his pocket. He then remembered he was still in his pyjamas, and felt a pang. When he grew exceptionally tense, he had a habit of fiddling with the tiny wooden frog Tsunade had gifted him for his 7th birthday, in that Hospital. He kept in his pocket. He had used it so much that its lopsided head was smoothing over. He wished he had it on him. 

Benjiro stirred, letting out a groan of pain.

‘Pa?’ Jiraiya said. ‘What is it? Can I get you anything?’

‘It’s…my back…’ he mumbled. ‘Don’t worry…they’ve pumped me full of…painkillers.’

‘Yeah, but if you need more -’

‘ – more would…send me into a coma…’ Benjiro said, smiling weakly. ‘I want to…be with you…’

‘Don’t put yourself through pain for my sake, Pa,’ Jiraiya said, swallowing the lump his throat.

‘It’s not that. I’m being…selfish…don’t want to go…just yet. I want…more time…with you.’

Jiraiya blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears building behind his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you just get that operation? Then you would have more time with me.’

‘And gamble…the years I’ve already had?’ Benjiro said, some strength returning to his voice. ‘I’ve had more time than…anyone thought I would…more time to spend with my son…to live in my home. Even if I were to turn back the clock…give it another go…my answer would remain the same.’

‘What? Why?’ Jiraiya whispered.

Struggling, Benjiro limply squeezed Jiraiya’s hand. ‘I had a choice. 90% chance…of death…or a few guaranteed months…with you. It was…a no-brainer.’

‘But we’ve had more than a few months,’ Jiraiya choked. ‘We’ve had nearly three years, a struggle though they were.’

‘Exactly,’ Benjiro said. ‘I think I’ve rather…cheated death…for long enough.’

‘You didn’t have to do that for me,’ Jiraiya sniffled.

‘I know. But to me…gambling time with you on the small chance I’d have…a little longer…was too great a risk. And if I’d died on the table…under Tsunade’s scalpel…I’d never forgive myself…for the guilt I’d cause her. And young Orochimaru…being left to pick up the pieces.’

Jiraiya wiped at his eyes, shaking his head. ‘Always were thinking about other people, weren’t you? If not me, it’s Tsu. If not her, it’s Oro.’

‘I didn’t want three scrappy kids…but I got them anyway, huh?’ Benjiro said, his eyes gleaming fondly. ‘The two of them are…truly good friends to you. Don’t let them…slip away.’

‘I won’t, Pa. I promise.’

‘Don’t promise me,’ Benjiro croaked. ‘Promise…yourself. You’re going to be tested, Jiraiya, this war will…threaten everything…including your friendships. Hold fast. Hold steady. And be strong.’

Jiraiya didn’t bother to wipe his face as tears glistened against his skin. ‘I’m sort of glad you won’t around to see the war unfold, Pa.’

‘You and me both,’ Benjiro wheezed.

‘But no matter what happens,’ Jiraiya said, his voice thick with tears, ‘I will make you proud.’

Benjiro smiled, his eyelids fluttering with sleep. ‘You fool. You already have.’

He drifted off to sleep again, and Jiraiya wondered if those were appropriate last words for his father. It made sense to him, in a way. Because no matter what, Benjiro had been in his corner. When he was rough around the edges and falling at the Academy, Benjiro had patiently encouraged him to improve himself. When he was frustrated by his lack of power compared to Tsunade and Orochimaru, Benjiro had stayed up, night after night, helping him improve on espionage so he’d have something to set him apart. When he was stressed and lost, burdened by the responsibility of the Child of Prophecy, Benjiro had stood by him and offered advice, even when he was uncertain himself. For all those years, Benjiro had propped him up. He was proud of him as a failure and as the pride of the village. That’s what makes a Father.

The afternoon came and went, and Benjiro didn’t stir. Jiraiya accepted a cup of tea from a concerned-looking Orochimaru, but otherwise, didn’t leave his side. He was listening intently for the dreaded change in breathing, but for a while, Benjiro simply slept.

‘Yeah,’ Jiraiya murmured. ‘You rest a minute, Pa. You’ve more than earned it for keeping me in check all these years.’

With little else to do, Jiraiya stroked his father’s hand, turning it over in his palm and rubbing away at the marks and lines. He noticed, with a sad smile, the little scar on the tip of his index finger. Jiraiya remembered when it had happened. Back when he was 5, just days before starting the Academy, he demanded Benjiro measure him against the doorframe, where they would use a kunai to cut into the wood. Being as hyperactive as he was, Jiraiya and bounced up and down when Benjiro was trying to mark it, and the kunai had slipped, jabbing his finger. Benjiro didn’t complain, saying instead that _it’s worth it to see how much bigger you’ve gotten!_

Emotion seared at the back of Jiraiya’s throat as he noticed the shiny burn on Benjiro’s wrist. When he was 10, he was sulking because Orochimaru had been made a Chuunin. To cheer him up, Benjiro had offered to make katsu curry from scratch, since it was Jiraiya’s second favourite. But when he was frying the chicken, the oil had spat viciously and caught his wrist. Again, he didn’t complain. After all, the curry was delicious, and Jiraiya felt a little happier. Above the burn, just cutting across his palm, was the shuriken he had failed to dodge when Jiraiya was out training. At 11, Jiraiya _should_ have been able to hit the targets Benjiro had set up in their small garden, but it reared off-course. Benjiro didn’t complain. _You’ll get better, son, just keep at it! And try to work on your aim. I don’t fancy losing an eye._

Everywhere he looked, on his hands, up his frail arms, and in the lines of his face, scored evidence of the childhood Jiraiya had so dearly loved. Years of love were marred into Benjiro’s very skin. Two and a half decades of care for his son, knocked into his body like the notches on the doorframe. _And he never complained once. Even when it must have been difficult, being a single parent to someone like me…he never complained._

The pleasant oranges of an afternoon sun filtered into the room, illuminating the dust in columns of speckled light. The brightness settled over Benjiro’s face, and he slowly opened his puffy eyes.

‘D’you want me to close the curtain? The sun is right in your face,’ Jiraiya said, standing up.

‘No,’ Benjiro said, his voice faint. ‘Leave it. I want to feel its warmth.’

Dutifully, Jiraiya sat back down, his lands in his lap.

‘Actually, my boy,’ Benjiro said, ‘could you…open the window? So I can feel the breeze?’

‘I know it’s sunny, but it’s pretty cold out. You sure?’ Jiraiya said anxiously.

‘I’m sure.’

Jiraiya eased open the window and pulled the curtain open fully, so the light lapped over Benjiro’s thin body like the crest of a golden wave. He closed his eyes contently, tilting his face up as a cool air current made its way through the room.

They sat in peace. Odd snatches of noise from the busy Village filtered through the window, intertwined with the strands of gentle wind. The sounds of footsteps as people scurried about their day; the clicks and groans of buildings as doors were opened and closed; the cheerful laughter of the Academy children, on their way home after a long day; and the quiet rustle of the leaves in the trees all ebbed in and out of the small Hospital room, as if flicking through the pages of a familiar book. Benjiro smiled, his lips pale and pulled over his bony face.

‘I love this Village,’ he breathed.

‘You do?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Benjiro murmured, his eyes still closed. ‘I…worked here. Fell in love here. Built a family here. Yes. I love this Village with…all the beats that are left in this old heart of mine.’

Jiraiya balled his fists. ‘And I’ll protect it when you’re gone, Pa.’

‘I know you will,’ Benjiro replied. ‘I am so…proud of you. It has been…the most noble thing…being your father.’

‘I – I don’t think I can do this without you,’ Jiraiya stuttered, pressing his lips together and biting back a quiet sob.

‘You can,’ Benjiro whispered. ‘And you’re…not alone. You’ve made some…really good friends.’

‘Friends who are going to miss you almost as much as I will,’ Jiraiya said.

Benjiro chuckled, until it faded into a cough. ‘Those two…such wayward souls.’

Jiraiya sniffed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Yeah. That’s one way to describe them.’

There was quiet for a moment. It seemed like Benjiro was simply enjoying the feeling of the sun and the breeze washing over him. He was simply at peace. Jiraiya bowed his head, tears spilling down his face and dripping off his chin. He hadn’t cried so much since Komako had died, when Benjiro had held him in a tight embrace and let him feel everything he needed to. He would miss those hugs. The ones that made him feel strong.

‘There’s…a certain beauty to this…’ Benjiro managed after a while, his voice growing weaker and weaker by the moment.

‘To what?’ Jiraiya stammered, tears blurring his vision.

‘In this…little life of mine,’ Benjiro continued. ‘To think…all I’ve accomplished…you being the greatest accomplishment of them all…in this handful of years I’ve had. And…to hear the Village still moving…still thriving…just outside my window…it makes me happy to know it will keep on turning, even…with me gone.’

‘It won’t be the same,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Without you, Pa, a little bit of good has gone.’

‘Ah, but the universe…doesn’t work like that,’ Benjiro chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look tenderly at his son. ‘Because…I’ll live in you, Jiraiya. In your thoughts…your memories…and in the great man you’ve become. And I’ll watch…over you. I can’t wait…to see…what you…do next.’

His eyes closed.

‘I’ll do my best, Pa,’ Jiraiya choked. ‘I swear I’ll do my best. I’ll never give up, no matter what.’

‘I know you will,’ Benjiro whispered. ‘After all…you are…my son.’

Those were his last words. One can see the measure of a person in their parting words, the ones they chose to leave behind, etched in the earth for all time. And Benjiro’s were simple, honest, and kind. It was just barely glorious. But glorious indeed.

*

Tsunade entered the room, and found Jiraiya pressing his forehead to Benjiro’s hand. Her breath caught against the lump in her throat, but she pulled herself together.

‘His breathing has changed,’ Jiraiya said, in a shaky, grief-stricken voice.

‘Okay,’ Tsunade murmured. ‘Now, we make sure he’s comfortable. Do you mind?’

‘Please. I can’t bear it.’

Carefully, Tsunade walked towards Benjiro’s wheezing form. His breathing was deep and he gurled low in his throat, unable to swallow the build-up of saliva in his mouth. _Death rattle._ His skin was cold to the touch, mottled, as she gently repositioned his head against the pillows.

‘He only ever used one pillow,’ Jiraiya whispered. ‘He said more than that made his neck hurt.’

‘Okay,’ Tsunade said again. Gently, tenderly, she lifted Benjiro’s head and removed one of the cushions, before she repositioned him carefully. She stroked his thinning hair from his forehead.

‘There now,’ she whispered. ‘You’re alright now.’

Jiraiya watched her, his eyes hazy with tears, as she tended to his father. She moved with such care and precision, no movement too fast or too rough, her fingers light and her touch gentle. Her voice was low and quiet, and she spoke to him as she worked, of the fond memories she had of him. She wiped away the drool that edged from his dry lips with a softness that made Jiraiya choke up all over again. She dabbed a small sponge in a jug of water, soaked up the liquid, and patted his lips gently.

‘Dry lips are the worst, don’t you think?’ she said softly. ‘This will help.’

‘He feels cold,’ Jiraiya said.

‘That’s normal,’ Tsunade replied. ‘But if you’re worried, we can make sure he’s a good temperature.’ True to her word, Tsunade carefully eased the hospital gown more securely around Benjiro’s slim shoulders, her fingers brushing against his neck. She then rummaged in the cupboard and pulled out a soft blanket, laying it gently over his legs.

‘This should make you feel cosy, Benjiro,’ Tsunade said. ‘These blankets are so nice, they’ve been known to go missing.’ 

Smiling, she glanced over at Jiraiya, who was staring at her. ‘You can talk to him, you know. He can still hear you.’

Jiraiya just shook his head, unable to form words.

‘Do you…mind if Oro and I talk with him?’ Tsunade said. ‘It’s alright if you just want to be left alone, of course. But if you wanted the company, I’m sure we have plenty of stories he’d want to hear…’ she trailed off, not wanting to pressure him.

‘Yeah. He’d like that.’

The shock on Orochimaru’s face was quickly disguised when Tsunade gestured for him to come inside. He had seen dying people before, but never one who looked so different as Benjiro. His illness had warped his body, and the rattling noise in his throat made the hair on the back of Orochimaru’s neck stand up. But he didn’t allow his emotions to betray him. This was a dying man – a man who was important to him – and he wanted to say his piece. He walked to Benjiro’s bedside, his head bowed.

‘Benjiro,’ he said quietly. ‘I never imagined that we would part ways like this. I suppose I never really thought about you passing at all, to be honest. You always seemed so full of life. So willing to give. And to a lost orphan like me, well…it meant the world.’

His eyes glassy, Orochimaru reached forward and took his other hand. Jiraiya might have been listening, but he couldn’t tell for sure, since he seemed so distracted by his own grief.

‘You know,’ Orochimaru continued, surprised at the intensity of his own sadness, ‘I remember the day I first met you. The three of us were on your roof, do you remember? I was terribly shy back then. Still am, I suppose. But you greeted me like you had known me all your life, and do you recall what you said? You said ‘ _can I rely on you to keep an eye on my reckless son while I’m away on a village errand?’_ You know, I didn’t think I’d have to keep an eye on him for years after that, too.’

Benjiro’s chest rose and fell jerkily, as if he was laughing.

‘And of course, you took us to the old barbecue place,’ Orochimaru continued. ‘You told me off for calling you ‘Mr. Benjiro’. And I didn’t say at the time, but…that was the first meal I’d shared with people since my parents died. Sitting at the table, sharing food and drinks and conversation, made me feel like I might begin to heal again.’

Tsunade was gazing out the window, tears reflecting on her face. He wondered if she’d heard, but decided it didn’t matter. Being vulnerable at that moment was nothing to be ashamed of.

‘Then there were all the nights after that,’ Orochimaru said. ‘Jiraiya taught me to cook and you let us loose in your kitchen. You let me stay over when I felt…truly alone. You welcomed me into your home when so many others rejected me. There is nothing more valuable than that.’ He paused, composing himself. He had never really thought about it before – how much Benjiro had given him.

Sighing, he straightened up. ‘Thank you, Benjiro. For making me feel like I had a family again.’

He took his leave, leaning against the wall and putting a firm hand on his Jiraiya’s shoulder. He could feel him quivering beneath him, and he closed his eyes, sharing his grief. After a moment, he watched as Tsunade turned from the window, having wiped her face free of tears, and moved to Benjiro’s other side.

‘I hardly know where to start,’ she whispered. ‘With an apology, perhaps – I mean, the first time you met me properly, I was crying and covered in snot. And now, parting ways, it seems we’re in the same situation. Not a great impression, huh?’

Benjiro might have smiled.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t find a cure. But mostly I’m sorry that I’ve been a rubbish friend to your son, and that you forgave me over and over again, even after I put him in Hospital. You always were too good a soul for someone like me, Benjiro. And you know, when I think of what makes a good man, you are the first person who comes to mind. Not Sarutobi-sensei, not my grandfather or Uncle. You. For everything you’ve taught, and for the love you’ve shown me over the years…’

She trailed off, lost in thought. ‘Hey, I never returned that hankie you gave me. Sorry about that. But that’s the kind of man you are, right? Always there to dry the tears. I wish you could…dry them now.’

Orochimaru sighed sadly as Tsunade rubbed at her eyes, trying not to cry. She sniffed hard, distracting herself by dabbing more water to Benjiro’s cracked lips.

‘Thank you for trusting me to take care of you,’ she whispered. ‘This isn’t the end I wanted, but…you were kind and patient with me to the end. Even my own father couldn’t manage that.’

She shook her head, closing her eyes. ‘I…I think I’ve run out of words. Probably for the best. I always was a bit of a chatter-box, huh? But anyway, Benjiro, I…thank you. Thank you for everything.’ Leaning forward, she parted his hair and planted a gentle kiss to his temple, tears in her eyes.

The three of them remained in the room for an hour more, quietly talking to him, tears running down their faces, hardly realising what they were losing until they’d lost it. Benjiro had shaped their childhood. When Tsunade and Orochimaru were starved of a father figure, he was there to show them the way. He was always there, waiting in the wings. Caring for them from afar.

After a while, Orochimaru floated from the room, his heart heavy.

‘Goodbye, Benjiro,’ he whispered.

Then, swallowing, Tsunade made to turn off the heart monitor. Jiraiya didn’t need to hear it when he flatlined.

‘I’ll be outside,’ she murmured.

More hours passed before Benjiro finally slipped away, his hand clasped in his son’s, and the sincere, heart-felt goodbyes singing softly in his ears. 

*

After, Jiraiya drifted through the corridor like he was weightless. Dawn was breaking. The heaviness in his heart threatened to buckle him, but he continued to drag his feet. When he passed Tsunade, who had fallen asleep on one of the chairs, he felt a pang. She had tried so hard for him. Wordlessly, he coaxed her awake with a small brush against her shoulder.

‘Huh?’ she mumbled, jerking as she woke up. ‘Oh! Jiraiya! Sorry, I must have…’ she petered off, smoothing down her messy hair self-consciously. ‘You stayed in there a while.’

‘I know,’ Jiraiya said quietly. ‘I wanted to make sure they were gentle with him.’

Tsunade’s face softened. ‘This is a stupid question, but are you doing okay?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Jiraiya admitted. ‘I said what I wanted to say, but I still feel like he’s going to walk through the front door back at home, right as rain and good as new.’

Tsunade stood up, stretching, and nodded soberly. ‘Yeah. That takes a while to shake off.’

‘You didn’t have to wait here for me, you know,’ Jiraiya said. ‘Your shift finished ages ago, and you look like you could sleep for a week.’

‘You’re one to talk,’ Tsunade said, but her tone was gentle rather than teasing. ‘You should go home, get some rest. Oro had to tap out, by the way – he sends his condolences, but there was some sort of commotion at the Mansion and he was summoned.’

‘A commotion? Well, when it rains it pours, huh?’ Jiraiya said weakly. ‘Do you know what it was about?’ 

‘No, but that’s not what I’m worried about right now,’ Tsunade said.

‘Don’t worry about me, Tsu. I’ll…be okay.’

Tsunade moved forward and squeezed his hand. ‘Come on. Some fresh air will do you good. We can watch the sun rise, and remember him.’

Jiraiya trailed after her, barely noticing as medical ninjas whizzed by, nor the strange, anxious energy building up and down the corridors. He only looked up from his feet when Tsunade opened some double doors, and led him out to a small balcony that overlooked the Village. The watery sun was fighting to make itself known, bleeding yellow light to seep across the heavy clouds. It was the sunrise Benjiro would never see.

Tsunade was still clutching his hand. For him as much as for her. ‘You did good today, Jiraiya. You were by his side until the end.’

‘So did you and Oro,’ he mumbled. ‘What you said to him in there…it was beautiful. Really beautiful.’

‘You heard all that, huh?’ Tsunade murmured, putting her hands on the cool metal of the balcony railing.

‘I’m glad I did. I just hope he heard it, too.’ 

‘I have a funny feeling that he did,’ Tsunade said.

He stood by her side and looked out over the village. It was nosier than normal for daybreak – there was definitely something going on at the Mansion, but he paid it no thought. There was little room in his mind for anything but pain.

‘I just…can’t believe he’s really gone,’ he murmured.

He felt Tsunade turn to face him, and he turned to her, too. Tears were running down his face again but he hardly noticed. Sighing, Tsunade took his face in her hands, her thumbs wiping at his tears.

‘Hey,’ she said quietly, her face so close he could feel her breath on his skin, ‘you’re going to get through this. I know it feels like the world is falling out from under you, but you’ll be okay. Oro and I are here for you - and we understand the pain you are feeling better than most.’

‘But the house…and the funeral…’ Jiraiya stuttered, grief shaking his body. ‘I’m all alone, Tsu. I don’t have any family beside him. I’m the last one.’

‘Don’t worry about all of that right now,’ she soothed. ‘We can help you sort out the house and the funeral, but right now, you need to focus on yourself. A lot of happing right now, what with the war, and you need to process this before you try and take on anything else. Okay?’

His lips trembling, Jiraiya nodded. ‘O-okay.’

‘Good,’ Tsunade murmured. ‘You’re alright, Jiraiya. You’re alright.’

He wasn’t sure why he did it. Maybe it was the grief clouding his judgement, the loss of his father and the painful end with Akari making him forget himself. Maybe it was the way she had tended so dutifully, so carefully, so kindly to his father, propping his body so he was at ease, and whispering stories of a childhood full of love. Maybe it was the feeling of her small hands on his cheeks, stroking at the barely-dried tears, her palms warm. Maybe it was the way the sun glanced over her eyes and weaved through her hair, turning them golden and making her look more beautiful than he’d ever seen. Maybe it was the way she was looking at him, with such intense sincerity and support, never wavering. Or maybe it was because, in that moment of unparalleled sadness and loss, he craved comfort from the one person who could truly provide it.

It could have been all those things, or nothing at all. But without really knowing what was doing, nor thinking of the consequences, Jiraiya closed the gap and kissed her. She squeaked in surprise but he didn’t hear her. His ears were roaring and all he was aware of was the softness of her lips.

Tsunade took a moment to really register what had happened, before she jerked away from him, her heart thundering in her chest.

Jiraiya looked stunned. His eyes were round with regret and longing, his mouth hanging open. Shakily, he backed away, increasing the distance. ‘Oh, God. Tsunade. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…’

Tsunade blinked, a million emotions warring in her mind. Anger was the primary one. He couldn’t just do that, not when she was with Dan. She swallowed, touching her lips, her eyes wide. _This isn’t about me. This is about him and his grief. Don’t lash out._

‘No, it’s…we’ll deal with that later,’ she said, surprise shaking her tone. ‘Just…come here, Jiraiya. Come here.’

‘Are you going to hit me?’ he gulped.

Tsunade shook her head, moving forward and pulling him into a hug. Jiraiya froze. This was _not_ what he was expecting. He thought she was going to smack him into the middle of next week, dead father or not, and he probably wouldn’t have blamed her. But instead, she took him in his arms and held him. It was an awkward hug – he was much taller than her, so her face was pressed into his collarbone – but it was overwhelmingly comforting. Snivelling, Jiraiya leant down and pressed his forehead to her shoulder, and he felt her hand rest against the back of his head, soothing him.

‘Shush,’ she said, as sobs racked through his body. ‘You’re okay. You’re okay.’

He was still crying when someone burst through the double doors, looking panicked.

‘Hey!’ Tsunade snarled. ‘Can’t you see we’re a little busy here?’

The Shinobi, who was doubled-over and out of breath, waved her hand in the air. ‘Sorry, Princess Tsunade, but have you seen Biwako?’

‘Biwako? No,’ Tsunade replied, as Jiraiya turned away from the intruder and wiped his face. ‘I’m technically off-duty now, so I don’t even know her rounds. What’s with the urgency?’

The Shinobi panted, her eyes full of alarm. ‘It’s the Hokage. There’s been an attempt on his life.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUH so that was...a LOT. The drama, the angst, the romance. I feel like I need a long sit down after that, and I knew what was coming. I drew on my own experiences with regards to Benjiro's death, so that was cathartic - and accidentally made Akari way more sympathetic that I was going to oops - though I'm aware this is a Jiraiya-heavy chapter. Still, he needs his moments, even if they are super sad 😅  
> Anyway, this is sort of a filler chapter in sense, because next chapter, we go off to war officially. Well, sort of. Well, you'll find out. But yeah, I knew Benjiro's death was going to happen sooner or later, but I'm glad I spent a long time with it. He was an important character, so I felt it would be weird to just bump him off in a few paragraphs. Still, I hope it wasn't boring!!! I promise some action in two weeks!!!  
> Also lmao I find it SO WEIRD writing Kakashi as a baby. It just feels very odd since we're used to him as a badass adult😂 But I like seeing Sakumo being a good dad 🥺  
> As always, your comments make me very happy - every time I get an email notifying me I'm like 😍 and then I'm like 😭 because they are always so lovely! I'll be sure to respond tomorrow (but rn it's 2.50am - I write best in the small hours - and ya girl is tired). Happy reading, and thank you again! See you in two weeks for 'Chapter 29: To War'!!! ❤


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